Four peach walls, a tile floor smooth as glass.
Heavy wooden door sealing me inside.
Darkness, a shuttered window locking the sunshine outside.
No clean, fresh, soothing air,
Illness and sickness everywhere.
Door opens, letting in artificial light,
Close my eyes; try to remember soft sunsets of summer.
Hear the soft shuffle of slippered feet out of sight.
Have to get well; can’t stay here much longer.
Low voices laughing, how can laughter fill a place such as this?
Hard furniture, missing the comfort of home
But most of all, missing the family I’ve left there
While I’m all alone.