Theres a picture
Of gentle Jesus
In every room
Upon the ward
Theres suffering
And great pain
Screams echo
Floor to wall.
Disease and illness
In equal dose
The forgotten place
Whispered low
People mere shells
Of what they used to be
Ravaged by misfortune
A place you should not see.
The religious man
Makes his rounds
Speaking of
Mysterious ways
That God and Jesus
Loves us all
Soon we will see
His ways.
The sunken eyes
Of the dying
The bodies
Skeletal in pain
Disease that eats away
At life
As dignity
It refrains.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: September 21st, 2025 02:42
- Comment from author about the poem: I visited this ward, the effect was profound
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
Offline)
Comments1
A sad poem that paints a graphic picture of death's waiting room. Nicely done
many thanks, I pondered as to put this one on site, but decided to as it represents real life in its most cruelty ridden way
Have worked hospitals and the smell of death and disease fills the rooms. Graphic and unforgettable. You are most welcome
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