Hospital(Poem)

Fighting off
the clock of entropy
I count
the tariffed time
given out to me
for the past crimes
of the youth.

The reality
of white sheets
and the immortality
the microbes
was hard to miss
even for the uncurious
visitors.

Stalled life
and the salted saline solution
contradicts
the agility of the X-ray scans
and the CT scans.

Dreams
fed on oxygen masks
creepy curtains
and the flat foods
makes you long for life.

The anaesthetic walks
and the
gowned body
wants
the old simpleton
normalities of existence.

And

The final walk-out
from the wheelchair
and the goodbye
to your nightingale nurse
is something
to think back to.

—Drunken syringe.



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