The Plague Doctor’s Son

The Plague Doctor's Son

The Plague Doctor’s Son


Nobody questioned when all would be well

when everybody seemed stuck in plague rage

and children knew of death before old age

a time when Governments crumbled and fell.

We fed others our poisons as a cure

a hellish juice my Father created

a desire behind mask he hated

all living knew who the Plague Doctors were.

So, thousands died from the poisons we gave

my family survived as many perished

we knew we were shameless killers blessed.

Sometimes obsession rules how we behave

and leads to destruction of our cherished

living security we once confessed.


How did this Father and Son fall so low?

How did this pair end up in Hell’s hot wrath?

To gather all diseased along the path

with Father out front and his son in tow.

When plague finally took the Holy Seer

and left an infant Prince without parents

the lands now riddled with this abhorrence

a world removed now beyond simple fear.

The Father to survive tended to the dead

thousands of corpses surrounding one life

and forced his son to help remove the bodies.

As family man would keep his family fed

among the ruins and among the strife

active participants of grim follies.


Usually a small crowd of living

would shout their praise to both the Plague Doctors

who upon a feeble stage as actors

would pretend their job was pure and giving.

They did not deserve fame for their poor art

and only washed for moments of reprieve

would grab a husband and leave wife to grieve

with diligence they filled their bloody cart.

The Son remembers when he still had faith

the Father only searched for thoughtless wine

both wished for end of all the pestilence.

They worked as ghosts themselves another wraith

among the perished who no longer dine

upon humanities lost innocence.


My Father fallen started caustic fun

within his black kitchen his wayward zeal

his desire to bring himself to feel

strands of sanity had become undone.

When I, his Son, fell into madness too

and never pondered over our nature

to accept death as the Plague’s only cure

then call the Reaper to take more then few.

We cured the grieving with our passioned brew

and placed our holy drop upon their tongue

and I respected Father as I should.

So soon this world became the world I knew

the Plague Doctor’s Son remained always young

while gathering the flesh for pyre with wood.

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Jamie Lee Hamann
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Jamie Lee Hamann

My name is Jamie Lee Hamann and I have a passion for writing short fiction and poetry. I started writing for TCE around 2015 and since then I have finished seven collections of poetry and plans for more. I currently live in Lemmon Valley NV with my family. If you desire to find my other work on the internet feel free to stop by my website The website offers articles on poetry, poems, and links to all my other writing.

5 thoughts on “The Plague Doctor’s Son

  • May 23, 2022 at 9:12 AM

    Wow! Such a horrible time in history. Your poem is very well phrased and provides great imagery. The rhyme is great, too. Well done, Jamie dear friend. Well done indeed.

  • May 24, 2022 at 11:05 AM

    Excellent work Jamie. Nice working putting us in the shoes of the errand boy pretty much to the doctors of doom. Well written as always my friend.

  • May 30, 2022 at 8:17 AM

    Thank you Phyllis and Paul this was a fun poem to write and I am glad it is just as much fun to read. Jamie

  • May 31, 2022 at 4:54 PM

    Splendid work, Jamie. Very well written. Thanks for sharing.
    Best wishes and Blessings!!

  • June 3, 2022 at 2:39 AM

    A grim tale, well told in your poetry, Jamie. something different fro you but quite a captivating story.


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