The Surgery
D
David Wood
0
Altın Yaprak
'Tis a modern surgery
But the waiting room
Chairs are sad
With the tiredness
Patients feel
Waiting
The drip drip drip
Of the clock
And the in-house
Messages on
A wall screen
Add to the weariness
After an eternity you
Are called and
Tests are made
Prescriptions
Made
And they like you so
Much they want
You to come back
Then you disappear
Back into the dull
Cold afternoon
As if nothing happened
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş