Sat in the office, the radio on low
old tunes fizzle and crackle
the night tries to figure itself
into form and shape; like my mind
has that uncanny way of disappearing
at this time. It is now, I wonder
about you and if by thought and deed
eliminate some shyness
inside me, and say what is really on my mind.
Maybe not, maybe yes
may I, just not think:
I'll staple all the loose bits
of paper in the clients' notes,
write nonsensical lists of things
not done, not said
and scream silently in my head
that the doctor forgot to sign
the bloody scripts, again!
Night shifts
make me/us/them ramble,
Jenny makes coffee that melts spoons,
Natalia sighs and curses in Polish
with such applomb that I touch
her, paled cheeks and tell her
to take her break.
We all have ideals
and become lost in penitence;
I have crawled out of the snake-pit
once or twice myself
and seen the river run.
The radio reminds me,
that the news is always
a bit gloomier, in the middle
of the night.
Gold trophy winner
Adding your comment:
infact, it's turning well 
Joyce
This stanza alone holds an entire lifetime, a complete world within these lines, my Friend. Piercing, poignant & profound, Sweetie. Good luck in the contest. 
and mad talk... the music channel is pretty good on this station, it just interupts every hour with the crap news.....
