Wrong Side of the Gate

“I’m dying! Please help me” cries a man, red in the face.

“Sit down and wait your turn” says the nurse at the gate.

Tears flowing he turns, defeated, to take his place and wait.

Hours pass, hope fades. One more chance he must take.

“Please help me, it’s been hours with no end in sight. My heart it can’t take this, I’m dying inside.”

Impassively, she says “Sit down, wait your turn. We will help you in time.”

More hours pass, a new day dawns. The man’s name is called but no one responds.

“Get up, it’s your turn. We’ve come to help, it’s time.”

But the man doesn’t move. His heart couldn’t take it, he’s died inside.

The healers they came but on their time, not his.

Had they seen him on his time, would he have lived?

The pain took him with it, on the wrong side of the gate.

Perhaps if they’d listened, they could have changed his fate.



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