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Painted Brain | Dr. Finger: A Poem
We're bridging communities and changing the conversation about mental illness using arts and media.
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Dr. Finger: a poem


He slid his finger into the inner sanctum

where my thoughts lay bare

everything alright Doc…on the docket downstairs

but what about upstairs?

I take a deep breath, my heart rapidly beats in sync

with the smooth cold shiny stethoscope scoping my torso.

The question more so was I well?

The swell of adrenalin surged through my every cell

will some dread disease said leave me dead?

He poked and probed as if I were a game board

and played chess on my chest,

the loin removed from my groin as naked stood I

before the eye of one man who stood to stand to say

You Are Healthy

Daniel William Concharty

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