Courage.

She knew.

Her body had rotted from the inside.
The disease – the medicines – the doctors –
had done all they could.
The smell of disinfectant peels off the floor
and creeps up the faded green walls.
The heat sits heavily –
swirling with the fumes of melancholia
and the pity of strangers that trickles in
through the half opened door.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

A moan scrabbles at the back of her throat.
The tasteless food claws its way back up
out of a body throbbing with defeat.
She lies on the sterile white sheets
like a piece of crumpled paper
that has been folded the wrong way
too many times.

Her eyes – glazed with acceptance
flicker – towards the door.
Her granddaughter carries a bunch of fake
flowers and worried guilt
like a stone around her neck.
The woman smiles at the girl.
Her face – crinkling, wrinkling, folding –
“It’s going to be alright” she says.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Courage.

  1. I love your poem it was very moving i am new to blogging so i hope you don’t mind if i keep it short all the best Steve.

    Chittz: Thanks a lot Steve. My best for the blogging 🙂

  2. “She lies on the sterile white sheets
    like a piece of crumpled paper
    that has been folded the wrong way
    too many times”- This was way too good! Up till “crumpled paper”, I thought it was good, but “that has been folded the wrong way
    too many times” took it to a whole new plane. Amazing imagination…!

    Chittz: Thank you Shiva. It’s been a while – how’ve you been?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s