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Monday, July 19, 2010

Evangel's Ode to her appendix

The Part of me that Is no More.
by Evangel Young, age 14, plus she wrote the prose at the end in a letter to her grandmother to explain

I want to exchange my scar,
For my appendix - in a jar.
I wish that it was whole,
So I could keep it - in a bowl.

The organ in my stomach,
Why did it have to burst?
The little bean-shaped thing,
I wanted to see it first,

Yes, it took quite a long while,
In the process of taking it out,
But now I can look back and smile,
Cause it's really quite pointless to pout.

True, it didn't feel too pretty,
In fact it was rather a pain.
But look on the bright side,
It's now on the outside,
So now it can't pop again!

I wanted to use the word 'detonate',
Somewhere in this rhyme,
But sadly it did not affiliate,
Since I sort of ran out of time.

I was getting a little desperate,
But now I have thought of a verse!
I was free with poetic licence,
To tell of the thing that burst.

I used to have an organ,
That apparently disliked me,
We didn't quite see eye to eye:
And we certainly did not agree,

You could call it a little bomb,
With a website name to boot,
Termed, "packaged pain . com
"Which I'd agree would suit

The Thing felt under-loved,
My Idea is this,
Could not get my attention,
And so it went ballis-,

It blew it's cover, made a mess,
And sat there for a week,
Before we realized it was stressed,
And wasn't being meek

I nearly didn't make it,
Or so the surgeon said.
An intriguing thought indeed-
I was nearly dead!

But thanks to God Almighty,
And servants praying down below,
I survived my tribulation-
I'm still alive to crow!

So I refuse to whine,
For in His perfect time,
His purpose he'll reveal,
And it won't have to rhyme!

The tiny thing inside of me,
The thing by my intestine,
That felt misunderstood, you see,
Should've done more restin'

Decided it wanted a break,
But didn't ask for leave,
Didn't think of what was at stake,
And now I feel bereaved,

On to the happy hunting grounds,
Or wherever it is that organs go,
My appendix made me lose some pounds,
But why it left, I'll never know.

At first I felt abused!
Wasn't I a loyal host?
I stand un-accused -
And I'm not one to boast!

But pride remains a sin,
And so I am condemned,
Along with all my kin,
All the way back to Shem!

But God, in his great mercy,
Sent his only Son, to die,
Creator of the universe,
The Lord who lives on High!

And because He died for us,
Paid the debt on our account,
We can live forever now,
Without another doubt

So sing with me forever!
Of His mercy and his love,
Shout it from the rooftops!
Thanks be to God Above!

Another thing was gone for good,
Thanks again to God alone,
A thing of evil parenthood,
Upon its evil throne

A man-made throne,
Not carved in stone,
But one of my own making,
My sin condoned,I was owned,
I couldn't do forsaking.

Another war was waged,
This also for my life,
But this was far more vital,
Between my sin and Christ

But finally, I saw my sin,
The error of my ways,
I ran to Christ for refuge,
To stay there all my days.

I wrote this poem to explain these things,
In my own odd little way,
To tell the truth of the happenings,
Of the things that didn't stay,

The part of me that is no more,
The part of me that's gone,
The part of me that battled hard,
But in the end I won.

I say 'I' won, because it rhymes,
But it wasn't really me,
It's God who sets the pris'ners free from chains,
And that is why I'm free

So escape your evil captor,
Don't worry my troubled friend,
For I read the last chapter,
We win, in the end!

*Dedicated "To Him that love us..." and my Mom.(Revelation 1:5)

History of "The Part of me that Is no More"_______________________________________

Mom and I were driving home from my piano lesson the other day and I was in a happy, rather "rhythmic" mood. One of us, I'm not sure who, was laughing about something, and Mom, as she sometimes does, sang a little of it - something about a scar, or a car, or 'afar', or something like that. I thought it was funny, and after revising the words a little I wrote down the first 3 verses so I wouldn't forget, and could finish them when I got home for fun. It started out as purely for laughs. Rhymes and jokes that surprise me are often the funniest, and I thought it would be fun to finish it later, and then laugh over it with Mom. Next day, being Saturday, I lay around a lot (For some reason my biggest ideas usually explode directly after being 'sedentary' for a day, rejuvenating me and triggering my 'creative juices') watching the end of a Kent Hovind debate - in which he came out well on top - and against 3 evolutionists at that! - a Vision Forum filmmakers academy DVD, and another episode of Kent Hovind - which inspired the last line to this poem, "Don't worry about all this new world order stuff. I read the last chapter. We win." I finished it Saturday night, thinking to "redeem" it a little with a small message at the end, but then I got going and couldn't, or rather didn't, stop. Then, after several hours of mulling it over, added verse 3 Sunday afternoon.

I'm not too big on poems that don't make sense. Aren't they supposed to be telling you something, not flaunting the author's superior knowledge of the English language? They're supposed to make you think. I usually like one's that tell a story. This one is a true story - or rather stories. We were on a trip at the time, and I really did almost die when my appendix burst - mostly because nobody knew what it was, so it stayed there for a whole week "marinating". Consequently, when they finally did operate and discover it was my appendix, it was everywhere - a real mess. I was rather disappointed I didn't get to see it, too. As to whether it left a scar - it did. A big one. Last time I measured it was about 7 inches long, and between 1 and 2 inches wide at the bottom, thanks to the infection that caused the surgeon to reopen the "incision" at the bottom so it could heal "from the inside out". Gone was the neat little trail of silver staples that "didn't look so bad". To those who follow in my footsteps and have to have staples removed (and it terrifies them no end): please know only the last one hurts, as the skin pulls back a bit. I wanted to save a few as a souvenir, but Mom thought it was a little gross - and they weren't too clean - so I skipped it. I sort of have a 'souvenir' - or rather 3 of them - right on my stomach, anyway. Well, that's how this poem was born, and it was fun writing, so I hope you enjoyed it.
In Christ, Evangel


  1. Evangel,

    Thank you for writing this. One of our church leaders has a daughter who went through the removal of her appendix. Claire is her name and she had several visits to the doctor before the problem revealed itself. Anyway, I am forwarding this to her.



    PS. Love your creativity. Keep it up!!!!

  2. Evangel is quite talented. I've been trying to reconcile my memory of little Evangel with the idea of a more grown-up one who could fabricate such a clever thing as this.. it's fun. :)