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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=473518" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Brazilian Cafe</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=473518" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Grey Hospital and a Brazilian Café. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=473518" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The hotel where I stayed served lousy coffee, insipid and milky.<br>I knew there was a Brazilian café nearby, on my way there walked <br>past the closed down city hospital. Grey walls dripping of uncured<br> diseases, graffiti and dead windows. Convert it into an office block, <br>but who wants to work there, a place haunted by cynical doctors and <br>indifferent nurses who stalk the halls at night waiting for their shift <br>to end so they can get out from this place of horror, and patients <br>they have lost interest in and can do nothing for. Tear it down and<br> throw the debris down a gully. At the Brazilian café the coffee was <br>strong and healthy; the staff, young, moved as dancers to the music <br>in the background. There is much of Africa in the Brazilian soul, <br>passionate, courageous; yet, sometimes, viciously moody. <br>The girl who served me coffee, smiled with lips and eyes, her skin <br>dark, glowing… fit. And the sad hospital faded into oblivion.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Oskar+Hansen">Oskar Hansen</a></strong></div>