American pride — from our pride we should hide, / for it’s caused us to hate, despise, and decry
Deadlines rush on, relentlessly. / Another email signed, / “Best regards.”
Studying blood clots / While I sit for hours on end / Affixing my own.
You’ve taken everything / Nothing is left
Screams. Tears. Despair. / A sense of sadness in the atmosphere.
Uvalde / I hear the cries of children as they play at the school across the street / They are joyful and exuberant as they play in the Texas heat / unaware of the fear that will soon be unleashed
The hospital room is / fair, square, sterile — / by its vapid / medical posters / and lusterless hospital tools.
Ruchica Chandnani, Class of 2024 at the Arkansas College of Osteopathic Medicine, contributes this poem as an in-Training writer and current managing editor of the publication since 2021.
Tears for the dead, tears for the living / who persist in this world that is so unforgiving
In my white coat, / I ask for forgiveness. / Forgive me, / to the weary homeless man
Nita Chen, MD, movement disorders fellow at the Normal Fixel Institute for Neurological Disease, contributes this graphic medicine piece as a former in-Training writer, editor, columnist and featured artist for our print book in-Training: Stories from Tomorrow’s Physicians, Volume 2.
General: / Patient is in NAD, / except for being awoken at 7 a.m. by someone he has never met