Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2019
They are mostly elderly, frail, ghostly pale, lying there in their beds, comatose. Drugged out of their heads on painkilling meds, rarely with their mouths closed, though many with their teeth close. Tubes in their nose or oxygen masks for those for whom breathing has become too much of a task, I suppose. Totally oblivious to all those of us who have chosen to visit, just to be close. Lost in a world of their own, fighting battles unknown to most of us.
Damian Murphy
Written by
Damian Murphy  Dublin, Ireland
(Dublin, Ireland)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems