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  • Siteman

    Out of bed and on the road while it's still dark,
    Drop her off at the door and find a place to park.
    Take the elevator to the seventh floor,
    More sick people than I've ever seen before.

    Wheelchairs and wigs, not a smile in sight,
    Not all are gonna make it but a few just might.
    Check for blood, wait some more, finally talk to the doc,
    Sit in the chair, drip-drop, tick-tock.

    I wouldn't be here for just anyone,
    But I would for you, Mom. Love, your son.


  • #2
    nice

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    • #3
      I like the simplistic tone of the poem, it’s when the poet looks at poetic phrases and rejects them. It’s a subject which has no need of embroidery, very well done.

      Regards
      John.

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      • #4
        Love + courage = compassion. Beautifully writ!

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