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Fit2Serve

PANDEMIC: Will We Sacrifice Our Souls Saving Only Ourselves, Or Will We Choose To Sacrifice Ourselves By Fighting To Save Each Other?

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Will humanity work together, even it means saving only a few lives?......or will we choose ourselves, before others, in this time of crisis?

 

Feel free. Contribute something to help us all remember the best things about who we CAN be....as a species.

 

We were so close

There was no room

We bled inside

Each other's wounds

We all had caught

The same disease

We all sang'

The songs of Peace....

 

 

 

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11 hours ago, Fit2Serve said:

Will humanity work together, even it means saving only a few lives?......or will we choose ourselves, before others, in this time of crisis?

 

Feel free. Contribute something to help us all remember the best things about who we CAN be....as a species.

 

Great blast from the past.

 

Working together, in the face of this pandemic means we all must protect against the spread of the disease.  Those most vulnerable, the elderly, and those with chronic conditions, need to self isolate for the duration.  And those with a lower chance of mortality must pitch in to help the isolated and the sick.  But they need to do it according to best social distancing and hygienic practices. 

 

And the heroes, on the front lines of the battle against infection;  The Doctors, Nurses and other Health Professionals still need to protect themselves as best they can.  After a long period of inexcusable stalling, Trump finally invoked the National Production Act to provide the supplies these health professionals need to both protect themselves and treat the sick.

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lay down lay down, lay it all down.

/we could blame Trump all day long.

We were so close there was no room.

When I was a kid I was around people

who lived in the 1860's, literally.

 

I don't know what they were feeling,

I just remember bits and pieces, of 

what they'd say.

 

You know what, that A&P sucks,

the old blacktop and the middle men,

This greasy old fool, he's smoking his

cigarettes down to the butt,

has fingers burnt orange, and 

finally when he gets married,

he buys a cheap house, and parks

his cars in the front yard, 

and tethers his children in

the backyard because he has 

no time to care for them, 

and once he dies at an early

age, nobody remembers him.

 

Some uncle. Or the older girl

back in the early sixties who was

so worried that she would end

up being an old maid.

She married an old sailor whom

she fell head over heals in love with,

and when he died, she would not

let him go. 

They pulled her away from the house

where his dead body had laid 

for days.

 

Time is tough. We would watch as 

they pulled the old man from the little

white house. Some said he was in his

nineties, the old painter, Pete, they

called him.

Us kids watched the white truck come

pick his dead body up.

The older kids said, you die, when you

think it is time, you just know.

 

Peace!

 

 

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