To think a mans fate is decided
not by the battle won or lost
but by the heart alone is more
than one can bare. atone we will,
but nothing can mend the deep hole,
the sudden blow, the empty chair
the memories of smiling face—
the stories of his wilder days,
before his parts started to give,
and now all that is left if his
and his alone to give once more,
and he must face the coming storm
with his wife, his friends, and his kids to cheer
him on and back into their arms.
A poem written for a man that’s heart must be strong enough for surgery in two hours and 9 minutes.