It all looked the same
Those young nurses in their white dresses - oh yes
Doctors, surgeons, cleaning staff and tea trolleys
So easy to get used to, being fed on time every day
To start acting like you really are crook
Why won't they let me go?
Perhaps I am!

They even wanted my license!
Test me, and then take it, if I fail
But don't just take it, its all I have

Why am I whinging?
The beautiful young Malaysian woman
With her face cut to ribbons in a car crash
Has more to worry about than I
The Kiwi girls with scars from brain surgery
The man who had to wait ten hours in the TV room for a bed
The elderly people, the young, the crash victims, the homeless
And the destroyed, ah yes, Ward 28 sees them all, I am only one.



The good with the bad
The bad with the good
To make a whole from the all
The All of what I read
And write lousy poems late at night
Churning through my head in a turmoil of words
Spitting out in a rush, unthought and reckless
Just words on the moment, a tide of drivel forced out
To place poems together to keep a sanity most needed
In this a world of sane people who talk the talk
How many walk the walk?
Or is it all just words ?



(C) Copyright Winter, 2000
Ewan Elliott
All Rights Reserved