continuing the theme

Both Sides of the Glass







One fine spring day, or is it a nasty winter day,


I am on the ward floor playing a game


With the kids, though kids is the wrong word.


This is, by name, the adolescent psych ward, 


Though some are yet to be adolescent, while 


Others look older than me. Hard use will do that. 


I see we are being watched through the ward 


Observation window by a team of interns.


The don’t know me. I am on the wrong side


Of the glass. I despise them for their note-taking,


For their assumptions. A snarl wells in my throat.


Later, at our staff meeting, I am on the proper side 


Of the glass, safe and complicit. It’s a fine line,


This pane of glass, but irreversibly definitive.







Sonnet by one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 469 times
Written on 2015-07-15 at 14:48

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
This piece speaks to me for two reasons. One because as a child I spent a lot of time in hospital. And secondly because I have always viewed myself as being on the wrong side of the glass. You describe it with such understanding even though you are able to exit the situation.

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
I love this poem. It's nicely written, and it describes something that I've recently experienced as a thing on a petri dish, being observed by a doctrinaire clod.

This is stunning and very intriguing, not to mention a bit disturbing. I can't wait to follow the theme.