A democracy on life support
Dear editor:
Our neighbours are writing a very sad song.
The metronome pendulum in use, appears to have swung too far to the right, breaking off.
Its current location is unknown. What does a dirge for decency, sound like?
A symphony, of horrors.
The screams of stolen, caged, children. Once warmly embraced, now handled like inanimate objects, by gloved monsters in the night.
A seven-year-old girl’s last breath. Gunfire.
Deafening and unrelenting. Children, hoarse from having to scream over the gunfire, in their futile cries for safe spaces to learn.
The loud, strategic, placing of targets, on the backs of the free press.
Science ignored.
An abused, and agitated planet, desperate for nurturing and respect, preparing to rid itself of the parasite that infests it. Self preservation, at its best.
More gunfire.
The soul rattling bellows of parents, burying children murdered by law enforcement for the colour of their skin, in competition with, but not be outdone by, the angry cries of emboldened cowards in the streets.
White-knuckling tiki torches, while too blinded by Pride, and Privilege, to see that what they are demanding the return of, Never left.
A democracy on life support.
The flatlining of affordable healthcare. The whispers of ghosts from the most vile parts of our collective past, threatening to haunt us once again.