THIS afternoon I sat in my garden and cried.
I cried for my son, newly diagnosed with Covid-19, though ‘double vaccinated’.
I cried with fear – for my boy and his health.
I cried out of frustration – for not having been able to save him from the Lie and for allowing him to laugh off my concerns as paranoia and anti-vaxx sentiment.
I cried for his partner – captive of ‘the Science’ – for their hopes in vials.
I cried for my mother’s death – denied comfort, attended by masked, gloved and gowned creatures who did not belong to her.
The tears fell – they would not stop.
I cried for those dead from virus and vaccine and for those lighting candles for them.
I cried for sad funerals with masked and isolated people.
I cried for my daughters denied their student days and nights – at home on Zoom calls.
I cried for families waiting for medical consults, treatments, surgeries.
I cried for friends, jabbed and un-jabbed, staring with incomprehension across a divide of misunderstanding and disagreement.
The tears fell – they would not stop.
I cried for jobs lost and lives suspended.
I cried for businesses wrecked and relationships fractured.
I cried for parents of young children, facing dread decisions.
I cried for the abused, the lonely and the neglected.
I cried in bitter anger at leaders, politicians, people on the make.
The tears fell – they would not stop.
I cried for the poor crushed by the venality of the rich.
I cried for science – sold for coin.
I cried for the questioners – weary yet doubting.
I cried for the followers – full of trust and hope.
I cried for Truth shattered on a wheel of Lies.
I cried and cried. Then I stopped.
