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Aug 2018
I work in a hospital.
And I'm not sure if this was the right profession for my fragile mind.
As I walk through the hallways, I swear I can hear the walls speak...
Telling tales of lives being birthed,
and lives falling away.

I listen to the walls.
I feel every tear.
I feel every fear.
I feel every smile
and I feel every sigh of relief.
I get lost in all the stories these walls hold.
A beautiful swirl of birth and death.
I feel a slight pang on my throat, choking on the thought of death.
Then almost instantly, my face lights up.
A cry, of a healthy new born baby bounces off the walls.
I am completely lost in these walls.
And for a slight moment, I realize, I am these walls.

Either way, I work in a hospital.
I am caught in a cycle of birth and death
Written by
Cindy  21/F/Africa
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