1, 2, 3, 4

I was visiting my premature daughter in UCLA Neonatal Intensive Care ward. One day I got off the elevator on the wrong floor and walked into the Critical Children's Ward which was one floor below. I saw kids who were on their last few days in some cases and they eyes were pleading for help from anyone who walked by their rooms. I got home that night and wrote the poem 1,2,3,4 like learning to count. This was performed at Zeta Collective a gallery in Los Angeles.