Make or break...

Authors note: I think that it would be wise to give you (the reader) just a little background as to what made me write this poem.
My mother is 62 years old and lives in a retirement village. On Monday evening she had a bad fall and hurt her hip. She could not get up and the village called an ambulans to take her to hospital. Although she does have a medical aid, the ambulans accidently took her to the state hospital (Tswane District Hospital - South Africa) as many of the elderly do not have medical aids and they are often just dropped off at state hospitals.

Fortunately, she called me on her way there and explained the situation. My husband and I rushed over to collect her, but when we arrived there she was already in a very bad space and time. This was our experience.

Make or break...

A bloodied body is dragged through a crowd of pale and limp patients and the screams are muffled as the swing doors close behind his shackled feet. No one looks up, no one moves, no one gives a damn.

So, they wait, and wait and wait. The air is sticky and the smell of blood is thick in the air, a constant reminder of death. Patches of dry vomit decorate the floor, and when it is wiped no effort is made to clean it. A pale faced patient breaks down. She is too sick to stay on her feet and a foamy cloud around her mouth is home to a fly, but no one looks up, no one moves, no one gives a damn!

So, they wait and wait and wait. Bodies with medical degrees are floating around and around in their navy and white outfits. They are there only because they have to be, only because their presence puts food on the table. There is no kind words, no helpful hands and no beds. The sick and elderly are everywhere in need of help, and no one looks up, no one moves, no one gives a damn.