Dead walls, blank stares
The doors in the hallway travel in pairs
This enclosed gap, in such a hollow place
The beds all made with grace
I sit and take in everything that surrounds
An arrangment of sounds
People crying, people laughing, people dying
This place is oh so trying
She lies in the bed
And she rests her head
Her face is gaunt
Her weary stare is to haunt
One bed in a room made for two
With a beautiful view
We get up to leave
And with a heavy heart a sigh I heave
Wondering if I should ever see
Once more the face of thee.
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