The Treatment

he looks out the window
the bustling street beneath
people rushing everywhere
what thoughts wander, in his mind?

15 months flew by
in that very cot
waiting every day
with eternal hope in his eyes
that his wounds would heal

bloated egos
& toiling minds
years of cramming
& latest gadgets
no effort spared
to get him up

strange as it is
he was helping us
try to help him
for he was the nicest patient
any doctor could have

humbling it is indeed
the helplessness
what wouldn’t we give
when we look out the window
& see him there
in the bustling street beneath