Where disease has left the mark of pain,
I can and must wipe out the stain.
Where the need is deep and most profound,
That is where I know I'm bound.
As a doctor trained with special skills,
I'll one day treat with tools and pills.
And in my quest to be the best,
Intense study will line my quest.
But early on, I've realized,
The lessons must be far and wide,
That I must live in heaven and hell,
To find the greatest needs that dwell.
I've found that meds are not enough,
That healing wounds is really tough.
No classroom can ever fully teach,
How hurting souls you deeply reach.
I've begun to travel land to land,
From Philly's streets to Yerevan's sand,
To hold the sickest, hungriest child,
To meet the ill, the meek and mild.
I found that what they needed most,
Besides a meal, some clothes, a host,
Was no tool one could conjure up,
Or script poured out of spoon or cup.
A stethoscope can only hear,
The beats that monitor the gear,
Of human function, at the face,
But not the heart that's at the base.
The only way to treat the soul,
Is know the person as a whole.
I found that when I spoke their tongue,
They knew a friend they were among.
There was no judgment or dismay,
Just love and help I sent their way.
Their state, their culture truly known,
Their trust in me I called my own.
So as I walk this doctor's maze,
Collecting knowledge nights and days,
I'll grow a medical bag big and tall,
With compassion its greatest tool of all.