I am a man of many parts, and for those parts I'm grateful.
The parts though, don't reciprocate. Some days, they're downright hateful.

My brain might hurt, my teeth might ache, or often my left shoulder.
I hear from long neglected parts each day that I grow older.

On some days there is brand new pain. Sometimes it hurts so bad
In places, heretofore, that I did not know that I had.

There's cheek, and jaw, and palate, and mandible, and chin,
And upper-arm and elbow, and femur, knee, and shin.

There's eyebrow, rib, and sinus. There's finger, knuckle, nose,
Or wrist, and palm, and ankle, or heel, foot, and toes

There's neck, and throat, and clavicle.There's diaphragm, and lung,
And, scapula, and hamstring, and sternum, lip, and tongue.

Add stomach, heart, intestine, bicep, eardrum, eye,
To gall bladder, and kidney, liver, spleen, and thigh.

And some parts have parts of their own, like my old aching back —
Thoracic, lumbar, cervical, and sacroiliac.

Each part provides a service, from fallen arch to head,
Gleefully reminding me that I am not yet dead.

The parts decide which part will hurt. I am not the chooser.
My body is an equal-opportunity abuser.

© by Darrell Arnold.
Used here with the author's permission.