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+  Africa Speaks Reasoning Forum
| |-+  Poetry (Moderators: Tyehimba, leslie)
| | |-+  Visit at the sick
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Author Topic: Visit at the sick  (Read 5082 times)
Posts: 67

« on: February 12, 2004, 07:42:32 AM »

When I came,

She lay half-asleep in pain

At the sick and maim,

After her foot had sprained.

Around me, a concatenation of rooms lay,

In which sick humans stay, in which they die,

Where I went that day, hurrying my pace.

I found dreariness smeared on her face

And knew the silent death-pang in her fear,

Which sang a weakness in her voice,

But then I held her and was near.

I feared my tears would spill

In their Intensive Care Unit;

But even mine wouldn't heal,

At that expansive mega-clinic;

Instead, I felt my tears fail.

I caught some pining looks in her eye,

Could hear her troubled breath in my ear,

Which were nakedly written in her eye.

I saw a hidden message on the wall,

Then imagined the trouble in her soul;

Yet I knew she’d walk and be well.

I read a strange word above a door,

Scrawled boldly, as if to offer hope:

LEBENSRETTUNGS...: it stared at me;

And I glanced at it and just scoffed,

For what could a mere word mean

When simply sprawled upon a wall,

While a dear one here lay so frail?

I didn't get my queries solved,

But did regret my silly thoughts.

I sang a million words, then I stopped,

In that small, walled room binding us;

Then saw sleepless looks in her eyes,

And yet, a moment next, she had slept!

We sat inside the quiet of where she lay,

As she also sat - with her head raised,

In the small, neat room surrounding us,

Where I spent a short time and some words

As she strangely remained pale on her face:

The brow of her eye drooping weakly, sleepily.

Perhaps her tiredness was why she’d soon slept,

Then woken up sheepishly, mumbling easily

About how so often she sleepily escaped.

I gave her a loving smile, then I left her.



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