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Mad Lib: The Hospital

My (family member) handed me a Mad Lib when I was in the ICU. I had a chest tube, one that Nurse (name) checked on all day long. I was (age). I don't remember a lot, but I pieced together some memories through what my parents told me. The floors were (color). The food was (adjective), especially the (food); it almost made me feel (adjective). I blacked out this (noun) of my life, but my (same family member) gave me this Mad Lib, and I know it kept me from being (adjective).


Recently, I had a discussion with my breakout professor for my poetry class about personal information within poetry. How much is too much? How do I share my true feelings and memories without hurting those around me? He suggested sharing information through metaphor, so somehow my mind just went to this: Mad Libs. This is a style I have never used before, but I wanted my poem resemble a Mad Lib: the game which inspired this poem. I'm definitely at the experimental stages of my poetry, and I want to try every possible style and technique created (and not created) before I put myself into a box of what I can and cannot do within my work. For all you poets and non poets out there, try out my Mad Lib. Maybe it'll be light hearted, or maybe you'll feel the way I did when I went through this; the outcome is up to you, and that's the beauty of this game.

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