maybe it is hard to look
at each other, in the while
we worry, and wonder is vacant
we look away, fear is magnetic
attaching our eyes instead, to the steely
a t-shaped dragon, with clear pouches
from its tail, poison, into ones vein
some sit with a loved one, others an
empty chair is beside
why is it, empty
the ward, not a place for questions, judgment
something heavier fills the air
the floor, we look at the floor
beneath us, a firm that for the moment
suspends, with either a walk or shuffle
here, but would rather be – over there
sadness weakens the grip
the hold we have, sick or not
the desire to keep on, all in this room
no one is better off, in the hollows of treatment
love, courage merge, and we look up, at each other
may eyes convey
we all want the same
skipping stones 