this is not a locked ward
it is classified open:
acute
I checked
but I am standing
waiting
for staff to open up
let me enter
to notice that I am here
there is a gaggle of them
talking in the nurses station
they are too busy
to pay attention
~
and this is it
my new ward
the ward of rumour
and innuendo
the place of raised eyebrows
and a muttered
good luck
when it is mentioned
when my new role
is spoken of
this is that place
so many lost souls
directionless
falling under the sway
and barely existing
within these crazy walls
day after day
it seems tragic
and then
there are the patients
~
-
Author:
Frank Prem (
Offline) - Published: April 15th, 2018 00:16
- Comment from author about the poem: Franks Psychiatry Pt 4 - acute observations.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
- User favorite of this poem: Lauraš».
Offline)
Comments3
Ghosts. Ghosts everywhere. The more maniacal these get the more I like them.
Many ghosts Nicholas.
It's that kind of profession and workplace.
I believe it to be a gift sir. Hold it well.
Love the last stanza. This happens in many walks of life where the staff are too busy worrying about themselves to think about what their purpose is (or is this politicians?).
The nature of people, I think, GF. Need reminding about why they're employed.
Frank,
A great write to remind us of not burying our head in the sand...especially true if itās part of our job! We need to remember to put othersā needs ahead of ours!
~Laura~
Something that needs active reminding, Laura. Complacency leads to 'me first' thinking after a while.
For sure, my friend!
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Btw...I was DOWN UNDER šfor a few days! Unfortunately, it was for a funeral!
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