On and on they go,
Stretching out in every way
Veins of the hospital beast
In them travels all kinds of faces
Staff, family and patients all travelling to different places.
Cleaners mow the invisible grass, shiny surfaces clear as glass.
In the twilight of the night, echoes of foot falls resound throughout.
A ghost town it has become.
But in the morning, feet return and the hospital creature wakes from its slumber.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Write comment. Nice piece, Ben. Read my poem, Love and Iust. Thanks