Hypothyroidism

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Every day,

one small pill

keeps me alive.

Time ago,

I was sick,

close to comatose

and drying out.

Pale, rough skin

pruning.  My mind

was swirling into deletion.

Emptying, I was.

Death, I was partially.

Living in both worlds,

I cried for the dead and the living.

The light was shown to me.

I had to sleep…so I slept.

Doctor.

Doctor, thank you.

Blood examined and medicine 

regimented.

My skin and mind return to fashion.

Small pill, 

you keep me alive and well.

I live in only one world now.

I will meet the other someday soon.

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6 thoughts on “Hypothyroidism

  1. I too have lived there…live there. 20 years and a thyroid cancer scare just was put to rest today. Ah…what a day.
    Ah…that little pill.
    Poetically put. 🙂

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