The Hospital - Poem by Mathieu Hotte
Hours of anxious, I tend to tire,
face pending expression,
relief, the coward.
Breathing halls, the weary walls,
little ones questions,
a vending machine's selection.
Hesitant men, answers in hand,
comforts of home,
Thoughtful stranger, speaks of time divine,
a friend I find.
A chairs indentation, lengthy wait,
belief in faith.
Silenced crowd of strained strength,
This place of wait,
i've come to know,
the hesitant men,
A hopefuls foe.
This place of wait
i've come to understand,
not all are hesitant,
there's still a chance.
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