Uneventful non-memory based youth.
One fine day in the merry month of non-existance
I was roaming the corridors of a sick place.
Rooms full of beds, beds full of people,
people crying, dieing, sleeping, hardly breathing.
I lay there taking in the sights,
the people in their beds,
people walking around making some semblence of doing.
The eyes tell stories of sadness, grief,
the lack of living.
The eyes tell of wishing things were different,
wanting to change, wanting to leave.
For many there was that look of relief.
Relief from what,
that was the question I most muddled over in me mind of minds.
Was it the past,
the present
or some unknown future they wanted relief from?
Many hours, days, months and years
were spent in observation of this type of place by me.
The awe I felt while watching all these people ,
even after so many years,
does not fail to bring that question to mind.
I have not found the answer,
why all these people want relief and
from what.
e-mail me "MadPoet"