Metal bed? No,
It was wooden
Yesterday
Or
Was it?
The nurses are
dressed differently
But I'm not afraid.
The One
I see most days is
here,
She should have
retired by now!
Her sad looks wear
her, but
Radiant
Still,
Despite the pain
she's seen.
Her face is loving,
Magnified by the
glistening of tears.
Her pain draws her
love,
But what brings her
so low?
Now
A woman, younger,
but her
Too similar...
A daughter?
And two little ones,
boys, hers.
She crouches, moves
closer, mouths:
"Mad"?,
"Bad"?
"Dad".
Ah.
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