The Vision

The Vision

I heard the sounds of wartime; cries of terror and of fear.
I saw the blue skies darken and the dust engulf the air.
I touched the shattered bodies and inhaled the stench of death,
And, as this scene unfolded, I watched with baited breath!

I heard the sound of sirens and saw the lights of blue.
I watched the sick and wounded unloaded in a queue.
I saw the glazed doors sliding and read the written sign –
‘We apologise for closing. There isn’t room inside.’

I heard the wails of panic rise from the stricken crowd:
Awareness dwelled amid them: No treatment would be found!
I sensed their desperation; their suffering and their pain,
And listened as they shouted ‘ It’s the Government to blame!’

I thought about this vision and questions filled my mind.
‘What if this really happened and treatment was denied?
How would the sick be cared for in a country of neglect?
This ‘Land Of Hope And Glory’ where ‘Hope’ is all that’s left!

About the author

SandraW348
93 Up Votes
As a survivor of domestic abuse I found writing down my inner thoughts in the form of poetry to be an exellent therapy which aided my recovery greatly. I am fully aware abusive behaviour in a relationship can come from both sides, therefore I apologise that my poems on the subject are aimed solely at the male species. This is mainly due to the fact that they are based on my own personal experiences, and not on life in general. I am pleased to say that once I had purged my system of the bitterness I held towards my perpetrators I could go on to write poetry on various other subjects; which I hope some of you will enjoy reading!

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