Prognosis

Trying to eliminate the static cling
The remnants of some pain
Who knows what the past will bring
And what color the stain

They tell him that the x-rays clean
No sign of crumbling dice
Those jaded bones may yet convene
Listening to the best advice

But even this sounds like some insult
The prognosis tough to swallow
"But wait," they say, "we will consult"
Their words becoming hollow

Still waiting here as darkness falls
The future turning black
Still waiting as the healing stalls
But there's no turning back.