Inside and out

The bedsheets are white 

New and unused

In the hospital bed she lays

There's no way to survive 

She's as good as dead

The doctors all say

In the bed that she bids

She tries her best to stay

As she cries herself to sleep

She knows she will not wake 

He will come to kiss her

One last time 

In the dream her heart's desire

She constantly wonders why 

As she slips to sleep

And the bedsheets turn red

This poem is about: 
Our world


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741