E.R. where lives are lost and saved
Where emotions run from panic to grief
And one needs to be brave
Life can be tragically brief
Blood and antiseptic
Doctors and nurses in hurried haste
Nothing can be more hectic
Than the E.R. place
Shouts of 'hurry, quick! '
Amid the din
As patients, injured and the sick
Like a wave pushed in
The dying and the dead
And last minute confessions
For this is the E.R. and that is your death bed
Your life is no longer your possesion
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I have been to the ER many times. Your description is very good. Thanks, Kwai
Thank you for your kind words, Kelly. I hope you won't have to go there any more.