A Doctor's Metrics

We can track the tide of cortisol's quick flood,

But not the memory buried in the blood.

We can read the EEG of a thinking mind,

But not the unquiet problems only a dream can bind.

We can watch the pressure rise inside an arm's tight band,

But not the weight of duty in a capable hand.

We can feel the pulse beat strong and deep,

But not the quiet heartbreak a lonely heart must keep.

We can measure the degrees a fever hold,

But not the warmth a single hug unfold.

We can scan the calories on a plate,

But not the true nourishment of a lonely state.

We can count the steps a person walks,

But not the inner fatigue a new life unlocks.

We can weigh a body and all of its bone,

But not the emotional baggage a soul carries alone.

The metrics we have, the numbers we see,

Are just a shallow map of what we are, you and me.

For the things that haunt us like a silent ghost,

Are still unmeasured, yet impact us most.