Waiting Staring Poem by Emma Woods

Small talk in discussions are made as I wait
Im quiet and alone in the waiting room from hell
Scared to breathe or swallow there is nothing to say
Feels like someone's watching staring as to tell
Waiting now to enter the room where we begin
Begin to tell our story begin to tense but win
When afterwards I'm safe I'm p**sed off but it's fine
It oesn't really matter the day is now all mine
This illness is a curse unwanted and uncured
Disorderly unkind in needing to be pure

Thursday 28th August 2008: D xx