|
|
The Hospital
The smell of disinfectant drifts freely
Along the corridors of this giant germ place
While statuette figures walk tall in white coats
With stethoscopes around their necks
Like pet snakes clinging on for life!
Walking from bed to bed discussing your prospects
With their minions, who surround them like some God
If you're lucky this almighty being will speak several words
Or...he may just pass you by like you're non-existent
The hours tick by so slowly among this disinfectant odour
They feed us three meals a day like cattle, not thinking...
If the food or fodder is to our liking!
We either endure with embarrassment and eat their culinary skills
Or never leave this bed infested place!
B...
Written By B.R.Walker
3rd July 2008
Copywriter UK
Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades
|
Vote for this poem
Please Comment On This Poem
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
