February 24, 2011
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Fake smiles without eyes
White walls looking in
Dead stares looking back

The smell of disinfectants
Permeating the air
Sinking into pores

Laundry detergent on the sheets
Scratching the tender skin
That is so susceptible to disease

The soft soled white shoes
That mark who they are
And what they do

For those who can’t do it themselves
And for the ones who can
It wont be as much as they used to do

The visitors come and go
For the lucky
Some visitors come and see the blank stares of those they love
And they never return

And the fakes smiles without eyes
And the white walls looking in
And the dead eyes looking back
Will still be there

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