Living amongst a sea of beds full of poor souls
Lost – lonely – trapped in their own worlds,
Places we will never see – Can’t be – Or follow,
Their destinations are exclusive – Private
Availability just for one.
Those of us on the fringe
Wonder – Worry – Conjecture,
Must use our imaginations
To try to peer through their eyes,
See what’s on the other side.
Some are quiet – Serene – Lost in a dream,
Others – Angry – Frustrated – Violent,
Crying out loud – Screaming and afraid,
Terrifying nightmares torture their beings.
There I lay in my room with a view,
Exhausted – Lonely – Frightened
Caught in my own torment of pain
Confusion – Frustration – Loneliness – Despair,
Living between Past and Present,
No Future yet to see.
Our paths quite similar
Although They’re further along,
Kindred Spirits amongst a sea of beds,
Trapped in our minds with nowhere to go.
by, Anne Paterson
*Riverbabble online mag Issue #34, April, 2019