Good writing, with a strong point and with life oozing out.

Left Behind

July 17, 2006

Room after room
Bed after bed
Patients with no visitors
Nurses for friends

One with a name that stands out
So much, that I can’t help it
I glance in the door when I spy the sign
To see

Not a child,
But a full-grown body
Stretched out in a bed
Face twisted in a frozen stare

And I think,
“who the hell would name their kid
‘Miracle’,
and then leave him here?”

But then I think
“what do I know?
Who do I think I am?
Who the hell am I?”

I don’t know anything
About that family
Or what I’d do
What would I do?

What do I know?
The nurses might have given him that name
And besides
I’m not exactly stopping to say ‘hello’

It is easier
To pass by
To turn away
To walk through

and

Sometimes
Very late at night
I see
From the corner of my eye

People
Standing at the beds
But when I turn
They are gone

And I wonder
What my imagination conjures
The blank spot
My mind fills

Are they angels
Attending to these souls
Remembering
The forgotten

Or are they
Family members
Whose bodies are far away
But whose thoughts are close

Or are they
The people themselves
Standing outside
These temporary prisons

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