deepundergroundpoetry.com
Non-Essential
Our oath is to preservation as we charge in
Battle cry ready, friends on each end to defend
The foe we fight has no name or rhyme
Ancient and cleaving since the beginning of time
We hold the line as much as we can
But hostiles emerge from multiple spans
The generals are sipping wine and getting fat
While bombing a peaceful, once exclusive habitat
I curse as I see the rising new foe
Some brothers give up and some sisters fold
There are spectators from villages who try to break bread
Starved neighboring friends turn to lop off their heads
No peace is seen around except for the dens
Held high above ground but expertly hidden
Sometimes youll see a dainty silk covered hand
Dropping scraps to see bodies roll in the sand
Giggles and pops ring while a single smiling man
Emerges from the curtains with strings attached to his hands
The battle rolls on but the dying cry out
Cursing their master before bowing out
The surviving try to rest as they solute their dead
The mass graves and wind send a horrible stench
Some sleep before we are to start again
I slip on my uniform
Ignore the disaster it portends.
Battle cry ready, friends on each end to defend
The foe we fight has no name or rhyme
Ancient and cleaving since the beginning of time
We hold the line as much as we can
But hostiles emerge from multiple spans
The generals are sipping wine and getting fat
While bombing a peaceful, once exclusive habitat
I curse as I see the rising new foe
Some brothers give up and some sisters fold
There are spectators from villages who try to break bread
Starved neighboring friends turn to lop off their heads
No peace is seen around except for the dens
Held high above ground but expertly hidden
Sometimes youll see a dainty silk covered hand
Dropping scraps to see bodies roll in the sand
Giggles and pops ring while a single smiling man
Emerges from the curtains with strings attached to his hands
The battle rolls on but the dying cry out
Cursing their master before bowing out
The surviving try to rest as they solute their dead
The mass graves and wind send a horrible stench
Some sleep before we are to start again
I slip on my uniform
Ignore the disaster it portends.
Published 4th Aug 2020
Author's Note
Nurses walking off in the middle of shifts, management showing a "unified front" AGAINST those who demand a safe environment. I must have written three different versions of this, but none described the workplace these animals have created. Every department snapping and cutting at each other due to frustrations in staffing and budget cuts on top of all that. My people who rely on overtime crying because their hours are cut and so are their 401k contributions. I can go for miles, but this is what the poem entails. Patients aren't safe. HC facities are raking in the dough. Florida especially is profiting off of our dedication knowing most of us didn't get into Healthcare for the money. Meanwhile, both patients and workers are exploited while management cries of resources being 'limited.'
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