Yours is the name I carry on,

You were the first I mourned when gone.

You are the first for whom I cried,

But now you are my teacher at bedside.

You guide my scalpel and my voice.

You advise me on every choice.

When I feel lost in the clinic’s noise,

You are my rock, my hope, my poise.

When I reflect, filled with gratitude,

You are the first to whom I allude.

Yours is the name I keep in my mind.

Thank you for the gifts you left behind.

Image credit: 060 – De pabellón (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0) by Adn!

Poetry Thursdays is an initiative that highlights poems by medical students. If you are interested in contributing or would like to learn more, please contact our editors.

Brian Smith (2 Posts)

Contributing Writer

Stanford University School of Medicine

Brian Smith is a first-year medical student at the Stanford University School of Medicine in Stanford, California, a member of the starting class of 2021. In 2019 he graduated from Stanford with a Bachelor of Science in biology and a minor in English, and in 2020 he graduated from Stanford with a Master of Science in biology. He enjoys writing poetry and narrative medicine, as well as running and reading in his free time. In the future, Brian would like to pursue a career in anesthesiology or oncology.