Who's going to watch you?
A spare corner room. One bed and en-suite bathroom. Previous owners. Disinfectant. Smells. Those of urine and hand gel. Squeaky, lino floor. A beeping next door. People coming to and fro, But not this room here. This room eats people. It swallows them whole, I've heard. And spits out fam'ly. Other rooms. More light. People go, able to fight. Happier places. Here's just an ending. A locked door hides suffering. Others, ignorant.