Broken Wound

Just a judgement justified by an opinion.
So much to say and so much pain to suffer.
Isolation is where my bed is.
The walls are the one's that tune in my sorrowful songs.
The pillows holds my head high just for the nurses to heed my nose.

Here i am marking a mark that no one wants to indulge in.
The last portrait in my mind is man wearing a clerical collar,
Maybe he has brought me my freedom.
Slowly like a dream BEEP! BEEP!
Life is short,
But Aids kills;