The walls are sterile, antiseptic clean
The floors are silent mopped by hands unseen
The night is long and chill and strangely stark
As tip toe feet cross these halls in the dark.
There is one thought that quickly flashes by
This is a place where few prepare to die
The air is still, but hear the humming sound
As thousands of machines do all surround.
Here nurses try to understand slurred speech
Dealing kindly with parts of pain’s release
Pray time does rapid heal without delay
As some won’t live to see another day !
Claire V. Bogdanos 