a hospital is a strange place,
the epitome of human suffering.
corridors as busy as a bazaar,
the chaos is maddening.
A metal detector continuously beeps at a distance,
but people’s minds are elsewhere, the noise not distracting.
Faces are filled with concern and worry
and the air, with the bitter smell of medicines.
Ailing old people tell me the poets are right,
our dreams are big but alas! life is finite.
Oh! How lucky are the kids accompanying their parents,
unaware of pain, their buffoonery fills the room with short-lived joy,
What are we in the hands of fate?
nothing but a mere toy.
Two nurses move a stretcher with an old lady around
Her lifeless eyes stare blankly into nothingness,
her ride’s bumpy, but she does not make a sound.
A lady prays to a deity in the main corridor
I say to myself, Maybe god can’t save us,
but God can give us hope.
Far away at the emergency registration counter,
a man counts money with worry on his face.
We have to buy back life with money,