Next to the hospital bed she stood

aiding the injured from the war.

It was a gruesome battle and I was there

fighting for freedom and the love of my nurse.

Dying from hygiene and injuries,

my nurses dream was to  rid this disease.

I was the lucky one, thank my nurse moths

but soon, the end was near for both of us.

Her life, my love, would soon fade away into the past.

My dear Florence Nightingale would never recover. 

Thank You My Nurse

By Kanisha

View more poems from Hornsby Girls High School, 2013