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Ellie Sutton Jul 22
Nurses bursaries scrapped
Wages capped
Students unpaid, betrayed
By a stratified social system
That ***** on the helpless and the selfless
"Gratitude" is expressed
Not by redressing the balance
But with a clap
Followed by a stab in the back:
Oh, snap.

We're sick of your hollow applause: pause
Rewind your mind three years
To when you jeered
And blocked their cause with a cheer:
Tell me, is your conscience clear?

And when we think
You can't sink any lower
You throw a fresh blow:
Increase front line pay
But decline the same for our warriors in blue
Who saved your **** neck on that ICU

And the saddest part
Of this sorry story, Tory
Is we're outraged and dismayed
At the disdain you've displayed
But amazed? No.
Your track record is traceable
Applause a mere mask
Tasked with shielding years of austerity
That's crippled our NHS
With alarming prosperity

This proverbial *******
Will linger
In the memories of those who chose
A career of care
Over privilege and flair
Savio Fonseca Jun 15
Date an Air Hostess
and U shall fly,
First Class on Her Flight.
Date a Lady Teacher
and She will Teach U,
how to Read and Write.
Date a Poetess
and She will Compose U,
A Poem filled with Verses.
Date a Lady Doctor,
U will be attended by
all Her Pretty Nurses.
Date a Lady Cop
and U shall find Yourself,
behind Bars.
Date a Female Alien
and U will land Yourself,
on Saturn or Mars.
Jessica May 23
“But if I were thinner
I would be beautiful”,
She skips breakfast, lunch, dinner
calls it intermittent fasting.
Looking in the mirror,
she swears she sees a rotund and putrid beast.
“Just one more week...”.
She’s delirious from lack of food
and has delusions of relief
But if she cheats,
she only feels stronger in her deadly beliefs.
Laying in the hospital, her arm as thin
as the tubes that feed her reluctantly
she tells the Nurse
who is forcing her to eat:
“But if I were thinner,
I would be lovely
if I were beautiful,
everyone would love me”
The Nurse says sadly,
“Your weight is only gravity
But beautiful is already what I see
If you don’t have dinner tonight,
you may float above me
and no one will be able to catch you
and that would be ugliest of all”.
Damian Murphy Apr 17
A heartfelt thanks to all going
To work on the front line knowing
You are stepping into harms way,
Risking your lives every day
In caring for, and comforting
All those in pain and suffering.
For the fantastic job you do,
Stepping up when we needed you,
For the sacrifices you make
And the daily risks you take,
The country should never forget
We are forever in your debt.
You are true heroes all of you
Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…….
Today is World Health Day
It is an opportunity to appreciate
"The role of nurses and midwives
in saving world from corona threat"
They are doing untiringly long
duties without proper rest
Saving the world without
the fear of self infection
Let us applaud their valuable
role with two words of respect
The 7th April is the World Heath Day.
She held my hand
and dried my sweating brow
"I never asked her"

She comforted me when I was alone
and fed me when I was hungry
"I never asked her"

She washed me when I was unclean
and covered me in warm sheets
"I never asked her"

She blew me a kiss when she left
and said I'll see you tomorrow
"I never thanked her"
Nurses, all in a days work.
Abbas Mar 25
In times like these we must beware,
for we know not when end is near,
know your purpose in this world,
for time has come to be sincere.
To all those people fighting bold,
whose days are long and nights are cold,
for you and I they risk their lives,
so now’s the time to make them smile.
Give them strength and power too,
for we know not what they go through.
Show respect, support them too:
to all those angels, we need you.
For all those who risk their lives every single day for the safety of others: you are special in this world and you need to be told that. The world must show its gratitude to the warriors that help get humanity through unimaginable crises such as the prevailing one. They deserve love, respect and appreciation.
Mark Toney Oct 2019
24
24 begins with its cruel rule:
"No sustenance or quenching of thirst
until the sad/happy day passes."

Caring women with initials enter
Poking, prodding, asking the same questions,
While loved ones nervously watch.

Close friends, friends, and strangers
Phone and visit, offering their comforting words.
"We love you."  "We're praying for you."
"Make a pact with God."  "Chin up!"  "Happy Birthday!"

Their messages intermingle with disquieting thoughts
Of hopes and dreams left unfulfilled.
"Why me?"  "What now?"  "I knew it was too good to be true."
As hunger gnaws, and expectation is postponed.

A caring woman with initials enters one last time,
Poking, prodding, asking the same questions,
As the pushers of the bed arrive with their benign smiles.

Unwanted darkness returns,
As uncommon mortals work at their bizarre craft,
Opening the golden bowl,
Exposing its precious contents.

East and West Coast loved ones,
Separated by time and circumstance,
Carry on their prayerful vigil.

As 24 continues,
Surrounded by love,
Sustained by hope.
4/26/2018 - Poetry form: Free Verse - A friend's daughter was diagnosed with a brain tumor at the age of 23.  The day surgery was scheduled just happened to be on her 24th birthday.  She was supposed to be taken into surgery early in the morning, but she had to wait all day until mid-afternoon before they finally took her.  All that time she couldn't eat or drink anything.  Friends and relatives from the East Coast to California were wishing her a happy birthday and a successful surgery.  Emotions ran high.  It was very surreal.  When they finally took her to surgery we didn't know if she would live or die.  Thankfully, the surgery was successful.  I wrote this poem for her that same night after I left the hospital. - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2018
Mihle Mdashe Feb 2019
I've written 4 suicide letters, each one better than the last. I'd thought I'd mastered the art of saying goodbye through a piece of page. Nothing can compare to the last one I wrote, so poetic; I knew I couldn't use my previous ones cause if I did no one would see there was at least something that came out of my depression. In and out of psychologists rooms - I swear this is exhausting, but ma wants me to get better. I laugh at her cause better is only like my father's presence; it ain't there. Suicide letter number 4 had me believing for sure I wouldn't make it out alive, there was just something about the way I had stalked all those words in the dictionary, I put some light in there hoping I'd see the same light when I'd finally come to rest. But I couldn't, if I could I would; overdosing, drowning, popping a vein, all that and I couldn't do it. There's something in the way nurses look at me that make me despise hospitals, I hate the sympathy on their faces and mostly I hate them for having that motherly affection. Ain't nothing worse than doctors telling you to rest when the only rest you need would've been death. You see what I feel is a type of tired that sleep can't fix, or maybe sleep 6ft under would fix it, I don't know honestly.
Bring to me your broken down
Your rattling and cracked
Send me all your fractured hearts
The pains; the sprains and smarts

Deliver to me your wounded
Your tortured mentally alone
Pass to me your elderly infirm
The babies born before their term

Rush to me your weak of will
Your dependant; addicted and lost
Blow to me those down on their knees
The drunk. Morose. Self-inflicted injuries

Laugh with me at human things
Your odd accidents and stories
Triage with me as I tend the wound
Make you better than the you I found

Present to me your desperate
Your shattered and your morbid
Breathe with me as surgery makes well
Exhale! On my skill your fate befell

Lay on me your one in three
Your canker’d and your wretched
Move to me those at end of time
When curtain falls on final pantomime

Please bear with me when times get hard
When I slip up and make odd mistake
Pray for me at seventy. No dotage; still I strive
So proud to play my part in keeping you alive

Raise thanks with me for visionary
My creator; father Aneurin Bevan
Have patience with me when I seem slow
Many patients to see in daily ebb and flow.

©pofacedpoetry (Billy Reynard-Bowness 2018 – All rights reserved)
In honour of our National Health Service (NHS) in it's 70th year.
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