HOSPITAL ROOM
I can see the sunrise with my eyes.
I can see the sun.
It is not any fun.
Breakfast comes around.
Another day here, I will be found.
Another day goes by.
Another tear falls from
my eye.
I am here because doctors need to operate.
No, that is not great.
Yes, that I hate.
I stand at the window.
My hand on the glass.
So slow, time does pass.
Can I leave here? No.
When I walk, whereever I go
I am connected to all these wires
I am of this, do tire.
The main wire is called an IV.
There is no view.
There is nothing I can do.
There are no toys. There is not joy.
I can play games.
Every day seems the same.
Try not to go insane.
I can look at a book.
There is TV, sure.
How much of this must I endure