oh, i heard the shout
from the background.
that was shocking.for

what does my heart
gain when this lonely
writer writes in futility!

come on. i am not into
the flowers and the roses,
even the hyacinth and berries

don't smile at me.i
hasten the process of
my chemical being in

this lonely bed in
what we call hospital
where shut-ins spit

all the glory-the window
beside the bed right
next to the door.