Behavioral Health

I work as a patient observer for mental patients. This is what I saw.

The girl floats by through halls of white;
One hand holds gown closed o'er her back,
One hand rests calm on pole turned bright

By harsh and vile fluorescent tracks.
Her collar bone shows, shadowed still,
A past and memories so black.

She longs for that ellusive will
To bring her back from brink of death.
She kills her demons with ink and quill.

And now she walks with saddened breath,
Beneath the cold, fluorescent light,
And draws strength from her soul's great depth.

Her spirit falls from a great height
To be comdemned to halls of white.