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Jan 2012
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 won’t 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.
Megan Hardie
Written by
Megan Hardie
902
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