PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

    A beautiful day, but to the hospital, I am on my way.

  

        The memories are real.

             See, all these things did happen to me.

     As much as I regret.  As much as I try to forget.  The walls, colors bright.  The stairs leading out of there.

            As much as I deny.  As much as I cry.  

           See, the rooms for activities.

        In my head, the memories of the rooms for the adult beds.

      At night, the outside lights.

          Lying in bed.  All these thoughts going through my head.

            The garden and The elevator G.

          Why is this happening to me?



                    Days and nights are the same.

                        You can see, watch TV.

                      My parents and I do take a look at book.

            We can play games.

            The days.  I so, want from here, to get away.

           The nights.  I can't dream.  A continbuous stream of nurses and docs.  They talk.  They have their lights.  A sight.

          It can make you want to scream.

                      It can drive you insane.

                        We have meals.  Waiting.

              Or until better I feel.

                  Either for surgery day, or to get well.

                   Or to go home.

                 Thanks mom, for never leaving me alone here.

            This place, this space.  I do have a lot of fear.



              I mulitply this by 80.  It can really make you say oh no.  Whoa.