Life’s A Bitch

 From my position I could see the hills
Wild and rugged, majestic, awe inspiring
I knew them to be peaceful and serene
A place of beauty and tranquil freedom
A place to get lost and found wandering
Collecting your thoughts and those of others
These hills tell their own stories and tales
Of all those who have walked amongst them
Of all those that have fought to keep them
For all those who lived and died rambling
With the sounds of bird song, wind and breeze
I have the sound of metal bed pans clanking
And the painful struggle of people trying to use them
Listening to them empty their bowels and bladder
In embarrassed, awkward ecstasy who’s going to wipe
I hear the coughing, the choking, and the spluttering
Of the incurables, the iron one lung only brigade
I hear the sobbing of those within and without
Visiting time a time of hugs and tears and goodbyes
I hear the cries of those in pain as they give blood
Again and again and again for no apparent good reason
The television is constantly on but the volume is just too low
Grabbled by the hustle and bustle of Ward H in full flow
I look down at where my leg used to be, now a stump
I never got the opportunity to say a fond farewell, to wish
It happy trails, to wish it the final absence of pain
As it made its way to the incinerator to be blackened
The stump is painful but bravely I do not cry out
The stump is ugly but I accept it for what it is
I look to the hills, the nursing staff have arranged
Low cloud, enough low cloud so that I can see nothing
But I know they are there, I sense their existence
It saddens me to realise I cannot and will not visit them again
I pray that my memory outlives my crippled body
In my mind I still run and climb, rambling unfettered
In my dreams I stand at the summit and scream
Screaming at the bitch that is life and
Wishing for my freedom back