Waiting, time seems to stand still in this place The endless white walls and white floors, One can never really tell where one ends and the other begins Like a maze with hallways, paths, and dead-ends.
Feeling lost and alone in this sterile hell The smell of iodine thickens the air Disturbing silence in halls so pristine Carts and gurneys and tools that gleam.
There are loved ones, and some that were lost They were never really accounted for Perhaps we are all just a tag to be placed on a toe But until we all die I guess we wonβt know.
We all lose something when we walk through those doors Either a piece of ourselves or something more Generic rooms filled with half living people Sanity is slipping away, perhaps it was never there to begin with.
The small children remind us of the life we no longer have But we reach, and we grasp; we hold fast to false hope But life is so short, fragile, and fleeting Death comes unexpected, you have been warned.