Rising at the break of dawn
Deeply reflecting on the bright new morn
Seeing nothing that is normal
’Cause it’s all about the abnormal
A specialisation dealing with the Pathos
Coupled with a double dose of Ethos
To the Surgeon’s riddle is this answer
It is definitely a type of rare Cancer
The cells or tissues, large and small
In their complexity, they stand tall
Through Cytology and Morphology
En route Patternology to final Etymology
Looking through the third eye
And at length giving a huge sigh
This waxy or frozen tissue
Is really proving to be one big issue…
Dealing with the hues of pink and purple
Till dusk goes the grapple
Solving puzzles and mysteries galore
Possibilities narrowed down to less than a score…
Given the diagnosis of an uncommon tumour
Amidst the wiser, it is this rumour
This idiot seems to lack humour…
Looks like I need to strengthen my armour…
With the primary unknown
Treatment not definitely known
They got someone to blame
Oh what a big shame!
Is the resected margin clean?
You know what that could to me mean?
Pray, give me your support
Quickly amend the report
At times, there are those tasks so creepy
In that room so lifeless and scary
All this seamless clutter…
Is this really my bread and butter?
When the diagnosis is elusive
Finding nothing conclusive
Planning a lengthy respite
Vivid imagination in spite
The brain is getting lazy
Or just driven crazy
It is all about that cause
That I need to stop and pause
Updates on the web so wide
Not quite transparent as the slide
Besides a paycheck so thin
One could cringe within
The many rectangles of glass
Would indeed retain my class
When comes that day with the digital to vie
To decide who will live or who will die…