Day One Hundred and Forty Five: The Wards

In a day where all I can do
is let my imagination run away with you,
Iā€™m stuck for things to say.

Hospitals, so sterile, even rob the mind
of creativity. Even in our finest, most
fertile imaginative moments, these
white halls simply echo with the sound
of sanitised artistic endeavours.

Inside these wards, even aesthetics are vetted,
swabbed and rinsed clean by dramatic
antiseptic.

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7 thoughts on “Day One Hundred and Forty Five: The Wards

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