Landfill of the Ill

A dying man thinks as he looks around his hospital room.

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.