We show the fatigue of Twelve hours
of duty, to care for those that
Cant even breath without our care..
When we leave those that we wish
could survive till our next shift.
We go to grocery stores to find
our next meal,
but shelfs stripped clean...
By those who don't need,
but horde more than there need,
for either greed or profit.
for we are holding our hands out like Oliver!!
Sir, Madam do you have anymore,
As we weep with empty stomachs..
making do with the scraps left behind..
"Sorry not till our next delivery,
But ill be at work then..
A tear drops lonely down a cheek.
Yes I've seen eBay, or online selling sites...
They make me sick to my heart,
to think I may have to save these gluttons
on an empty stomach.
But I don't judge
I just drop a tear for those I lost the
but this venom, sinks in fast..
I wear the scars on my face, the masks digging in,
the cracked skin that I don't have time
to moisturise as I know its been a twelve hour shift.
I only sleep a few,
my moments of peace and tranquillity woken
My beeper goes off, were on call..
At least I got more than most,
I give myself a two minute stretch,
and a wake up call, then I'm in fresh gear,
sanitise my hands, and put gloves on.
I'm fearful of this virus, as many have fell like
warriors on the battle field, now breathing through
masks of life and death.
But my vow of care is strong and I shake off
this fear, and walk into the ward a warrior
"I will care for the fallen,
I will hold a fearful hand,
never will I let anyone go.
But I'm only one in a sea of many.
If I can keep on breathing till they have strength
its a win..