High Dependency
The drone of machines goes on and on
with the endless cry of the ward sisters song
energy rises like billowing smoke
with fiery glances to the ones who dare choke.
Invisible hand undertake their chores
over the barks and commands of the insistent roars.
The sick and the fallen lie still in their beds
as the army of staff turn it all on their heads.
Rigorous routine steps up a pace
to the onslaught of pressure that's put on this place
Healing and harmony must still exist
It's the law of the land, that one must insist.
So many bodies, so many hands
dancing to orders, between the commands
And so it continues day after day
In this battlefield tent, where the injured must stay.
Copyright © Christine Adams | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment