Mark Walmsley: Triage

Mark Walmsley hails from Hull in the United Kingdom where he is a member of the “Write to Speak Group.” He performs in community theater and just finished recording a BBC podcast. His visit to a hospital inspired this poem. He noted that A&E is a British abbreviation for Accident and Emergency.

Triage

Sat alone... at two AM,
In a blinding white lit room
Waiting...
for someone to notice me
As I sit nursing my bloody wound

Contorted people sprawl over chairs
Bloodied and bruised...one sits staring at me,
While I wait and tame my pain
In this soulless room...they call A&E

A drunk is wheeled in
Soaked in piss... and sick
Yet still has time
to pick one more fight
As he shouts “what you looking at?
You prick”

A Woman sobs in her stained nightgown
And rocks back and forth in her chair
“Just one more score” she repeats to herself
Clawing her bony fingers
through her matted grey hair

There is an eerie silence around these wards
I look at my watch
It says ten to three
How much longer must I watch and wait
In this soulless room they call A&E

A group of lads, who seem worse for ware
Hobble in, on walking sticks
Their girlfriends follow
swearing and shouting
At the grey haired women who asks them for a fix

I still sit here alone, amongst this crowd
An alien in a full room,
yet empty
The blood I have lost, now pools on the floor
Of this soulless room they call A&E