The room
That I am wheeled into,
Is bright white,
But it doesn't hurt my eyes.
All the nurses gather round
To take my vitals,
Attach clips to me,
I lie in wait under my blanket,
Which was once heated.
The nurses chat
About everyday things
We exchange words
As they prepare the instruments
For my surgery
YOU ARE READING
Freestyle Poems By Stein
PoetryJust random poems by me. They don't have a particular pattern or anything, just little doodads that pop into my head.
