Robert Rivers

Doctors often think of death

We get too much to see

Your job is mainly to protect

Nature’s to fall free

In the end you must fail;

Knowing that is key


When someone ends 

You touch silence

Air vacuumed from the room 

Lungs sucked dry

Listening  for breath,  

You only hear your own 

Inhale; make sure it’s real 


No applause when this drama’s done

Your clipped calls reach shocked quiet

Forms get typed with paler hands 


When in training I was told

Every time a patient dies

You die a little 


Does that leave less of you?

More a will to work more

Fail better

Yet steeling yourself to fall free

Knowing that is key