Coronavirus: Concern over protective kit guidance change bbc.co.uk/news/uk-523355…
This got me thinking of a poem many of us know.
Here is my adaptation. How are we not protecting our only line of defence? We do not deserve these people because they deserve so much more 💙
This got me thinking of a poem many of us know.
Here is my adaptation. How are we not protecting our only line of defence? We do not deserve these people because they deserve so much more 💙
Dulce et Decorum Est Protegeretur
Working double shifts, dressed like old beggars wearing sacks,
Weak-kneed, coughing like hags, they do not curse or budge,
Till on the daily briefings they turned their backs,
And towards their much needed rest began to trudge.
Working double shifts, dressed like old beggars wearing sacks,
Weak-kneed, coughing like hags, they do not curse or budge,
Till on the daily briefings they turned their backs,
And towards their much needed rest began to trudge.
Heroes are marching asleep. Many have no PPE,
But carry on, unprotected. Ministers to blame; all blind;
Drunk with ignorance; deaf even to the cries
Of those on the front line dropping like flies.
Cough! Cough! Quick!—An ecstasy of fumbling
But carry on, unprotected. Ministers to blame; all blind;
Drunk with ignorance; deaf even to the cries
Of those on the front line dropping like flies.
Cough! Cough! Quick!—An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy face masks just in time,
Too many are still yelling out and stumbling
And flound’ring like soldiers in fire or lime.—
Dim through our misty eyes and thick fluorescent light,
As under a sea, we see them drowning.
Too many are still yelling out and stumbling
And flound’ring like soldiers in fire or lime.—
Dim through our misty eyes and thick fluorescent light,
As under a sea, we see them drowning.
In all our dreams before our helpless sight,
They plunge at us, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
And read the tabloid that previously berated them,
And note the false sincerity on each and every face,
While carers wear a brave face,
They plunge at us, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
And read the tabloid that previously berated them,
And note the false sincerity on each and every face,
While carers wear a brave face,
whilst the devil is sick of this sin;
If we could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable souls whose final moments are lonely ones,—
My friends, you would not tell with such high zest
If we could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable souls whose final moments are lonely ones,—
My friends, you would not tell with such high zest
To the public ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: We are doing our best to protect them
To the NHS we are sorry
#StayHome #NHS #NHSThankYou #PPEshortage
The old Lie: We are doing our best to protect them
To the NHS we are sorry
#StayHome #NHS #NHSThankYou #PPEshortage
