Room number fourA Poem by nastasimirHospital experienceRoom
number four In-room number
four, Death was
hidden under the white blanket. On the first
bed left from the door It stood and
scared those who were having dinner. Death was
waiting to be taken away. They came to
pick it up with the same white bed. And they took
him away with a ghostly screech of wheels. That's how I
saw death for the first time. And a hundred
more times in the semi-darkness of my hospital room I saw that white bed. And I listened
to that eerie screeching of the wheels. © 2023 nastasimir |
Stats
18 Views
Added on August 29, 2023 Last Updated on August 29, 2023 AuthornastasimirPetrovac, Coast of Montenegro, MontenegroAboutLiving in Montenegro Writing poetry short stories and novels. I published one book of poetry one book of short stories and one novel. All written in Montenegrin. more..Writing
|