Ward 13 Bohnice

Ward 13 Bohnice

A Poem by Euchrid Eucrow 22. 23. 31

Nurses are our angels 
With hands like bleeding wings 
They operate with our sins 
Smoking time and chatting nothing 
In mental hospital we are happy 
We have our angels and devils 




In cold bathroom on the table 
There is my body 
There is my soul 
There is my mind 
There is me in hands of psychiatry 
Stripe down 




Pills with colors and dreams 
Bitter taste in pleasure streams 
Women doctor with scalpel blade 
She is smiling for her victory 
Cut down like sacrifice 
All people will be in paradise 





Glass windows with bars 
Vomiting from young girl 
Beauty behind cruelty 
Gentle tender queen 
She is with me in my dream 
We smoke like angels before birth 





She is smiling over my mouth 
Coffee brew from French nurse 
She is angel of ward 12 
We are together in garden of breathing death 
There in her hand my tears and blood 
She kiss me over coat 


In night time we sneak into hospital church 
Sharing stories and sharing pain 
Wondering about her name 
My voice became echo of bell 
Rock is hard and she is broken shell
I taste sweet berries on her tongue 




© 2017 Euchrid Eucrow 22. 23. 31



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Added on August 28, 2017
Last Updated on October 31, 2017

Author

Euchrid Eucrow  22.   23.   31
Euchrid Eucrow 22. 23. 31

LONDON , VT



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