Behind closed doors
they all discuss.
They shake their fists
and whoop and cuss.
Agendas make them
disagree
on what the tipping point
should be.
 
What numbers should
they advertise?
The deaths?  The sick?
or compromise
and peddle graphs
that show The Nation’s
beating it with
vaccination?
 
No worth for them
in keeping score.
There’s more dead now
than was before
and do they hang
their heads in shame?
Oh sadly, no
for we’re to blame.
 
We stood too close
and sang too loud
amidst that
fifty thousand crowd.
The daily deaths
are down to us
for not washing
our hands enough.
 
And when the dust
is all but cleared
the damage more
than we had feared…
decisions lie
with you and me
on what the tipping point
should be.