Hospital Visits

I stumble out of the car,

Walking the familiar gray

Concrete path, seeing but not

Really comprehending.

The automatic doors open

For me with a quiet swoosh,

The lady at the front desk giving me

That sad, sad smile, her eyes pitying.

But I walk past her, down hallways that

The staff have tried their best to make

Cheerful, bat haven't succeeded. They

Can't succeed, not in this place of death and

Destruction and illness. And I walk in,

The sterile smell and blank walls enough to

Make me gag as I reach over to tuck the clean,

White sheets in. I settle down in an uncomfortable

Plastic hospital chair, listening to the steady, never-changing

Beep of the machines. I sit there, in my daily vigil, surrounded

By dying flowers, and wonder if I'm doing the same.

The End

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