A tad tiny for a tomb
A little spacey for a catacomb
Curtains open and close
offering me a glimpse
The world I've long forgotten
Crickets and cicadas
beeps of monitor,
hum of machines
Twinkling starts long replaced
by cold lights burning
all hours
Sky has one colour
grey and cloudless
Strange faces, often masked
peep over me as if
I've long stopped being
one among/ of them
And left to become
a specimen from
a zoo or a circus
Notes scribbled and left
not making it to my
eulogy or headstone
Nobody's bothered
What I see
Lying in the intensive care unit.
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