in the waiting room I sit
across the way two older Oriental women stare,
walkers beside them
firm,
to their left sits a man of many years,
hairs white and gray
old,
he sits patiently with his eyes closed
peacefully
harmonious,
to my right sits a man with one leg reading the news paper
glasses magnify his eyes
farsightedness,
family's, kids coming in and out.
I sit there in agony like the last beer in a box,
"ARGH!"
I feel a great void in this provocative and exasperating freak show, buffoons all around me.
my experiences in Doctors offices and Hospitals have always been dim and unpleasant after seeing what my Grandmother went through, a light at the end of the tunnel. I feel like one day I might come into this hell hole and never walk out. I fear a Hospital room more then many things, unpredictable. I live my life on my own terms and I will die on my own terms. To die in a hospital bed, that's misery.
I then snap out of this brooded thought,
"For Shane."
sigh, then I walk through the door.
charientism. -Shane Book