Whatever – It Is What It Is
Awaking on the ward I am
Momentarily lost until
The aroma of hospital food
Crushes hope and taste-buds
My head diving back
Beneath the rock-hard
Imposter pillow; I am trying
To block out light of day
Earplugs – where are they?
Oh, right – confiscated
Suicide hazard apparently
I don’t see how but still
Sounds here defy description
Inhumane, inhuman, eerie
Even, or especially, in sunlight
At night I can pretend
They are part of nightmares
But awake, I realize
Crazy is winning at least
For some, and most likely me
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