you were meant to care that’s why I’m here this wasn’t my first choice for a bed I would be anywhere else in the world but I’m here with you instead a condition I happen to live with that’s taken away a lot of bliss* *but that’s another story there’s no way I would choose your halls empty and cold over the warmth of my home a solace, my Rome but that day, as you came to roam rolling your eyes at my demise as tears welled up in my eyes being carried by people who hated you who’d rather see you die than conversate with you flinging items my way is this a hospital - or am I actually in jail? have I actually been arraigned¿ did I perform a crime? a choice that wasn’t mine¿ [ His only crime was that he was born black. ] melanated from birth west african with a caribbean hook I thought I was going crazy these people, they betrayed me Duty of care? none a negligent flair for discrimination a poetic display of their irritation as their bodies sashayed across the ward attending to everyone else but me. I must be wrong this cannot be prejudice this cannot be racism there is no way in hell this is what I am witnessing I text my sister - Doctor of the fam “Niksy, this is what’s happening - they’re just tired right?” That’s why they won’t hold my hand? That’s why they won’t speak to me like I'm a human being? That’s why I’m invisible and if anything treated like the ward’s annoying flea? That’s why there’s no sympathy? after all, it’s a ‘black disease’ so why try to empathize with me “It’s all in my head right?” all I can say is, they’re totally wrong this makes them bad doctors they’re singing an awful song - an odd tune but nonetheless somewhat ‘familiar.’ Lord, I wish this was a flu... I wish I had nothing to do with you. the irony is plain and till this day it’s still difficult for me to claim that their irritation had a face Racism - written as an impossible stain.