Our Unsung-Heroes

In waiting rooms where all looks gloom,
and queuing lines are long.
Their blurred movements around the room
like rhythm to a song.

The yells and moans and distant tones 
have wrapped around your soul.
Your own minuscule wimps and groans
are muffled, as a whole.

Your name’s enrolled and asked to hold
till there's an open space.
Though antsy staying firm but bold
with pain upon your face.

They later wheel, ask how you feel
then prep you for exams.
The doctor’s candor helps to steal
'way pain without the spam.

That's when the pain is back again
but their smiles soon befriend.
Then your crisis becomes sublime,
as they hasten your stay's end.

They come as quick to help the sick
while rushing to their aid.
You're assured all the time you're here,
that your pain will soon fade.

All the RNs simply depend
on our support for them.
Their sacrifice is our godsend,
a rare and honored gem.

The nurse's aide is seldom paid,
their comfort, weighed in gold. 
Responders first, an accolade,
just a part of their mold.

Let's not forget, unless regret
all of the nurse's aides.
At times and we are most to fret
They're never in the shade.

In May the unsung heroes arise
and flaunt not their creeds,
but they're honored, without surprise,
just for all of their deeds.