When dream is called life

If you ask me, what is the saddest thing in the world, I will show children's hospital windows... and the colorful gaming zone, wich is the saddest in this universe, children play there differently, playing today, tommorow, then... and this writing will be pure emotion and the kids.
Her mother gave me hair ties, Nuka no longer needs them... hair... every child who gets there, no longer needs hair ties... You had to see these parents, soldiers without unifroms, standing there like border-guards of life and death, you can not invent a greater self-sacrifice, alertness ...
They have walked... They found, mobilized, shared... Funds, anonymus charity, kindness given back... bedstead is white as child's skin... ceiling is also white, can't move in bed... it's up to you, what to draw on the ceiling - sweet past?
They come and go, nurses, sisters... the pressure, the heat, the blast...do you need something? yes... instead of antibiotics, prednisolone and physiological salt - a little happiness and love...
- Let the life into the veins!
- we can't...
Is it that difficult? They can get the fluid from the spinal cord and can't let the happiness into the veins... little children can't understant, they know just one thing, it's a war, war of the one ward, war of the same smiles, war in which you can win with the low hemoglobin...
They can't find the veins. How can this be? This means another prick, I will punish everyone who can't find the vein and hurt her too much...
She got up, walked, remission, recurrence...
Can life has a recurrence? whenever... somwhere... or maybe in another life they are afraid to be born, as we are afraid of the death here...
But if you are afraid of something, I will show the children and you will be ashamed of your fears... Walking has a pale skin color... The universe is divided into two parts: the hospital yard and other parts...
Do you ask about the dreams? - It's awkward to talk about them, when dream is called life... In the meantime promise me that they will invent the cure and everybode will win the war, chemical war... and then will never miss the school and will follow the life with the ball... remember their eyes!..
Take care of the children, God, don't make me mad, take care of the children, not us...

Lika Kurtskhalia

Student from the Freiburg
Print