Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The white walls smell like sick the clean kind of  sick and I don't want to be here. "We are going to see him now" "Alright" scrunching up my face The elevator dinged, I pulled my sleeves down over my hands "They can't come in" "Why?" "They must be 16" "But they might ever see him again" "Thats the policy" I pulled up my hood and walked away Shrugged away their goodbyes "Come on lets go" "Alright" I took her hand and we left to wait in the overly plush waiting room, watching a TV with nothing on, and looking out a picture window at the concrete roof of the building below.
0
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 5:21 PM UTC
April
The white walls smell like sick the clean kind of  sick and I don't want to be here. "We are going to see him now" "Alright" scrunching up my face The elevator dinged, I pulled my sleeves down over my hands "They can't come in" "Why?" "They must be 16" "But they might ever see him again" "Thats the policy" I pulled up my hood and walked away Shrugged away their goodbyes "Come on lets go" "Alright" I took her hand and we left to wait in the overly plush waiting room, watching a TV with nothing on, and looking out a picture window at the concrete roof of the building below.
Written by
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 5:21 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem