Blinded by white walls,
and strong smells that conjure
feelings of helplessness
fear and of sorrow.
Noises and bustle,
and faces and hustle,
all seen through a frosted glass
I know are my eyes.

Odd blues and the greens,
and the whites, like an ocean,
all swirl as they drown me
as I walk on alone.
The footsteps, the voices,
the contact, excuses,
head bent, eyes fixed,
I walk farther along.

© L. Rose