Stomp stomp stomp. My shoes echo in the hallway as me and Arely race to the door. I hear the piter- pater of the rest of the class far behind us, we stop to catch our breath and Erick walks up to the window, gazing into the class room. Then, BANG Arely was quick to push Erick’s face into the window. We started to laugh and Erick hid his face behind his folder and I made arely say sorry. After there was a small mark he left on the glass due to the oil on his forehead.
Fifteen beds. Fifteen charts with names, Fifteen people without a family tree. Fifteen bodies for whom torture is medicine and pills. Beds over which the crimson blood of ages spills. Fifteen bodies that want to live here. Thirty eyes seeking quietness. Bald heads that gape from out of the prison. The holiness of the suffering, which is none of my business. The loveliness of the air, which day after day Smells of strangeness and carbolic. The nurses that carry thermometers Mothers who grope after a smile. Food is such a luxury here. A long, long night, and a brief day. But anyway, I don't want to leave The lighted rooms and the burning checks, Nurses who leave behind them only a shadow To help the little sufferers. I'd like to stay here, a small patient, Waiting the doctor's daily round, Until, after a long, long time, I'd be well again. Then I'd like to live And go back home again.
Great SOL1, I look forward to reading more of these this month!
ReplyDeleteWow.. that must’ve hurt. Great job on making your SOL hope to read more a bit like this one.
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