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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508350" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Gangrene</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508350" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">So often in the mid of night<br> I wake me in my bed<br>With utter panic of affright<br> To find my feet are dead;<br>And pace the floor to easy my pain<br> And make them live again.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508350" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The folks at home are so discreet;<br> They see me walk and walk<br>To keep the blood-flow in my feet,<br> And though they never talk<br>I've heard them whisper: 'Mother may<br> Have them cut off some day.'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508350" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Cut off my feet! I'd rather die . . .<br> And yet the years of pain,<br>When in the darkness I will lie<br> And pray to God in vain,<br>Thinking in agony: Oh why<br>Can doctors not annul our breath<br> In honourable death?</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Robert+William+Service">Robert William Service</a></strong></div>

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