The smallpox hospital

life

The smallpox hospital
Derelict and like a ghost house
Stood like a whistling shell
On the corner of Sneyd and Cresswell

Like a little Alamo
Whitewashed with wind
Sullen in the square night
Until the sun dipped in

When the white sheeted beds
Were in a row in a small room
And the doctors of the day
Stood over the babes all smitten and blue

To rescue who they could
To nurse who they will
In the time between
Time and ghostly shadows

As children of a latter day
Walked by that way and asked
What is that place that stands
On the corner of Sneyd and Cresswell?

Like a collapsing house of cards
That seemed to whisper
Why am I left behind?
To be feared and frightened

The children on the way to school
Who whisper, that ‘s the ghost house
A ghost house real and true
And it reputation grew and grew

Who knows what’s buried there
Or why it a left to decay and die
On the corner of Sneyd and Cresswell
A mile outside the little town

Author: blackbird212012

I am interested in multimedia work: songwriting, art, and creative writing. I have been involved also in theatre and music performances.

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