walls white, creep
echo of the death
that has come here before now
whitewash the stench
it still seeps
permeates my nostrils

fear hangs thick
mingles with feeble hope
hanging by a thread
life dangles

i want to scream
to drown the din
the carnival of death
its shaky hands grasping
the weary, the cold
the sick,
the already gone

i hear laughter
from down the hall
prickly sounding
deafening and out of place
i cringe at the smiling face
of a passerby
her blue scrubs
her shower cap
mock my aching heart

i hear the surge,
the rush of life as it leaves his lips
a cold kiss
an eternal farewell

i wrote this poem while waiting in intensive care while my father was in the hospital. he died the next day...