another day, a gun shot wound
fever, headaches and parachutes
one by one they trickle through
febrile seizures and turning blue
another line they stand up straight
heads bent down while they wait
others sicker pass them by
silently they wonder why
another doctor one more question
he mumbles quickly without much passion
he barely sees their retching faces
overwhelmed by too many cases
another word they don't get
minds cluttered they start to fret
suddenly the doctor's gone
it seems as if they're all done
another day a fainting spell
wheezing cough no way to tell
back pain, leg pain, any pain, belly pain
after a while, it's all the same.
© labujamra
