The Gentle Giant

An admission in room 714,
Possible lower extremity cellulitis

In years, he was close to sixty-seven
In weight, he was five times that

His name was Mr. Strong
It looked as if he could live up to it

His hand was the size of my head
His leg was equivalent to two of me

With one squeeze he could crush my skull
Instead, his gentleness touched my soul

With one blow, I would be out cold
But, his tender voice blew me away

His veins were inaccessible
Yet, his heart was so evident

A central line placement had to be ordered
Connection with his spirit already completed

My muscles grew weary retracting pounds of flesh
My mind found strength in what I was gaining

The putrid odor from his groin made me want to heave
The sweet innocence of his eyes indulged my appetite

Visioned as a heavyweight with a spice-filled life
Now seeing a lonely unsalted egg on his breakfast plate

A sudden pain to the chest and he was gone like lightening
With the Lord above is where the gentle giant will rest forever

Latasha Bellamy, Class of 2002