Room number four

falcon_mn

Room number four

 

In-room number four,

Death was hidden under the white blanket.

On the first bed left from the door

It stood and scared those who were having dinner.

Death was waiting to be taken away.

They came to pick it up with the same white bed.

And they took him away with a ghostly screech of wheels.

That's how I saw death for the first time.

And a hundred more times in the semi-darkness of my hospital room I saw that white bed.

And I listened to that eerie screeching of the wheels.

  • Author: falcon_mn (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 21st, 2023 18:28
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 3
  • Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
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Comments +

Comments1

  • L. B. Mek

    such vivid imagery
    sad, that you express such despair
    so clearly
    I'm sorry for what experiences
    gave you this level of insight..
    I imagine
    'the what-if I'm next, fears'
    and the waiting were the worst..
    thank you! for choosing to share
    'stay' strong!

    • falcon_mn

      I was 24 when I saw that in the hospital room. I was going to have dinner and my eye caught that moment. Such a bizarre moment.
      Thank you Mek noticing my poem and commenting



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