The white room



Sitting in a white room.

what will happen next?


Sitting in this cold room knowing that tomorrow

i'll get yelled at… for being in this room

because my homework can’t get done when my

tears are flooding my vision, if only, if only they knew.


Sitting in the room with the smell i hate

and the gross food…

                                she deserves better.


I just want to leave when I'm in the room,

leave the beeping monitors and whispers from the

       adults in white coats.


Leave the room with the same woman

silently sobbing for her son with stage four.


Leave the room with the little boy

waiting to see his mom, but she’s barely breathing.


Leave the room with the man who cries for hours at a time,

but when his mother with only a month left is wheeled into the room

he puts on a strong face and a half smile.


Leave the room where their once was a boy my age,

with two little sisters, but their single mom couldn’t keep fighting.


But sometimes i want to stay forever…

because each time we leave

little more of her disappears.  


This poem is about: 
My family


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