In halls of sterile light and steel, Where pulses echo, hearts to heal, A quiet truth begins to rise— Care can’t be measured by device.   For every chart, each test result, There lies a gap, a hidden fault, Where voices lost, unheard, remain— A silent burden wrapped in pain.   From city streets to rural lanes, Health divides in unseen chains, A mother waits, her voice denied, As walls of care grow far and …