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Dark Days

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By Elizabeth C., New City, NY

   In the lab smelling of chemicals,

Where the dirty windows block the light,

Bottles and test tubes line the shelves,

She's overworked and used,

And knows it.

Smearing something on a blood pad,

Devoted and at the same time,

Feeling like she doesn't count,

Knowing that she's helping people,

But not really believing it.

Waiting for the day to end,

like a bat waits for night,

Not looking forward to tomorrow.




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