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Soul Hospital This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

By
the tv offers cures for my
upsetstomach-indigestion-diarrhea
then happy people smiiiiiiling;
white, kindly men in white suits
mime actions over my stiff body
with metal things hanging off them;
the cupboard is a pretty sight,
It’s colorfully stacked with
Band-Aids, Tylenol, Advil, pink red white yellow pills –
for your heart? your liver? blood? swallow to your delight
(don’t swallow too much; that will be a mess).

so yes, yes, I get the point,
but can I get a Band-Aid for my heart?

“Where is the hospital for my soul?” I ask.
The nurses and doctors smile at me,
and point to a reclining couch beside a
lady armed with notepad and pen,
ready to dig out all the bad abnormal things
and scrub off the stains
and paint it lovely whitewash lovely whitewash,
oh don’t you just love lovely whitewash?

I turn around and see a sign:
“Hospital for Your Soul.“

I run toward it; oh I run.
I get there. Only a huge crowd waiting around the sign.
No building, no pills, no syringes. Nothing.
Then some other people start streaming in,
interspersing themselves like droplets of fresh rain;
They were just Joes and Teresas and Brendas and Kevins and such,
not clothed in White,
though they might’ve as well’ve been because
the people they touched glowed a light, earthly glow;
Heads hung a little less lower and backs were a little less hunched;
No instant $19.99 miracle,
just a touch of green to inspire blighted plants to grow, unfurl.

So these doctors in plain clothes moved on outwards,
walking into florist shops, in bus stands, in schools
fanning out into the world.

I was fascinated by them.
So I pulled some of them over to ask them
how they became who they are.
They told me: Why, someone touched me first.
They moved on, and I followed them.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.




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This article has 5 comments. Post your own now!

Squeaks said...
Aug. 30, 2011 at 7:19 pm
I am loving the message, too. And the flow, and everything everyone already told you. :) It's great. Thanks! ~Squeaks
 
Kiyoko This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jan. 10, 2011 at 1:17 pm
I like this poem a lot. It's like a story, and I think that's really cool. the line "heads hung a little less lower" is kind of awkwardly phrased, but that was the only thing that stood out to me. Great job! 
 
TheRaven said...
Oct. 24, 2010 at 10:04 pm
I love the rhythm of this, the repetition. It's very broken, but it flows. I love writing this way. I absolutely am in love with this poem. Fantastic job.
 
tori-gurlThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
May 26, 2010 at 1:43 pm

that was a very unique way of ending it i hope one day i can write like this

 

 
Schubster said...
Jun. 20, 2009 at 5:53 pm
Wow. great poem. I esp. love the ending and the message.
 
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