L'infermiere in poesia. Poeta Cinelli

We thank the Poet for the kind concession and also for the great feeling towards our category.
We thank Laura Rita Santoro, Regional Coordinator Nursing Up Lazio.

The Nurse

Another night shift, another ride on the carousel
that shows me so much misery every day,
and no one knows who fate will strike:
only the strong return from here,
it's a Russian roulette, it's all about death.

When I feel like crying I shut myself off and don't think about it,
I do what I can to give it meaning
but I can't find peace, because I can't do anything
to lengthen the threads that are too short
to which all these people are hanging.

They tell me "you're a hero, the national pride",
and meanwhile I have two trials in court,
because a year ago two patients died
and to right who knows what wrongs,
the relatives, angry, reported me.

I can't make sense of it, I'm even annoyed,
already coming home every night exhausted,
with bruises on my face from this mask,
thinking of all those poor dead
that I won't find again tomorrow morning.

Yet I keep quiet and always carry on,
and there are still many like me.
In the midst of the chaos I keep my cheerfulness
even at the end of the worst days,
and I give everyone a bit of lightness.

By kind concession Poet Alessandro Cinelli