Ohhh what a night!

I can smell the smoke,
I know it wasn’t me,
The girl next door,
Most likely.
The lights are buzzing,
Fellow patients are fussing,
I hear the staff dismissing,
Like their problems are nothing,
More focussed on parading,
Invading the privacy of the quiet ones like me.
I’m itching and twitching,
The stress got me glitching,
For peace sake,
I am thinking of snitching.
When’s medication?
I need some Zopiclone for sedation,
And if I am honest,
Some laxatives for constipation.
It’s quiet for a moment,
Oh no…
Then the alarms start sounding off,
Next doors at it again,
I contemplate,
Then loudly annunciate,
It’s fucking number ten,
I know she’ll kick off
But my doors locked.
She’ll only forget,
Calm down and spark up again.
Thus lye’s the circle of this particular hellish night.
I rate the NHS,
But this new bloody smoking ban!?
I wish I could go private,
Some place abroad,
If only I could afford.
During all of this,
I’ve been to the clinic and back.
The medication kicks in,
Alas it has suddenly gone quiet,
As to why?
I’m fast asleep.

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