|Like blank-faced sentinels
four plain walls surround me.
At my side is a nurse, beeping incessantly to
Taunt me for my illness-induced incapacity as
I lie under a colorless blanket. Behind my
fabric barricade bodiless voices
talk and laugh as if I don’t exist. Loneliness
clogs the air, slowly squeezing the
last breath of life from my lungs, condemning
me to an unnoticed death within the
emotionally sterile walls of this landfill of the ill.
© Copyright 2012 Beatrix Amber Robinson (UN: australorp at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Beatrix Amber Robinson has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
|Log In To Leave Feedback|