Deathspitol

The halls are sterile.
The smell is bleachy.
Art on the walls to distract from the death hanging in the air,
Kids are crying, old people are dying.
Everywhere you look whitewashed walls,
People rushing past, lost in the crowd.
Doors on either side all the way down-
Keep walking more crying, more screaming, more death.
Men in white walking to waiting rooms to spread death to families waiting,
Making more tears, the world never stutters, this place never stops.
Clean the bed, bleach the floors,time to bring in another dying patient.
Needle pricks, medicine trays, catheters, wheelchairs, gurneys,
Racing along faster and faster, we must bring death along.
Death sits in the waiting room legs propped up with a magazine feeling right at home.

Reviews

[Courtney Johnson]

This is quite... Interesting.

It's somewhat hard to read, though. At least, it is to me. Perhaps if it were broken up into stanzas, or the lines had some form of uniform. The first two lines are quite short, which is fine, but then the following lines seem to get longer and longer, and they don't seem to flow quite as smoothly.

The meaning behind it, though, is evident. The imagery is quite nice, and a nice thing about poetry is that you don't need to use the same "proper grammar" as you would in other forms of writing, but it is a lot easier if you do. It's got great potential, but, like a lot of things, it does have some room for improvement.

[Jayden Ireton]

Thank you. When i first was writing I was going to go short to longer and longer but decided to just break it up and be odd. I like to be a little unorthodox. I will write some with a more uniform style and see how that goes.

[Holly Mason]

the last line just got me these words come on strong
sad that this is what the last light looks like
and yes death should feel right at home
thank you for sharing

[Jayden Ireton]

Thank you for the review.