Hospital Waiting Room Poem by Mark Parry

Relatives stare into
The abyss of yesterday's news:
Parliamentary debate,
U.S. elections,
Middle Eastern unrest.
The Mail protests:
Lazy thoughts agree;
Express readers are offered
Hope of medical breakthrough.
No response.
The world turns
And they wait for the call.

"Mrs Jones, come this way."
She looks up with anxious eyes.
The cancer has spread.
No mention of this in her
Partner's face.
His head is buried
In the sand of headlines.

She walks away:
No encouraging smile is shared,
No kiss or touch.
He is adulterous with another:
His hands hold her lightly
Whilst his face almost
Touches her breasts.
Read all about it.

Now it is Barrington-Smythe's turn,
For this hospital is Private.
NHS and paying patients sit
Uneasily together:
Suits and overalls belie
Class in this classless society
Where pain is equally shared.