1

I can always pretend I'd ask how it feels
to know you endorsed an injection
you knew nothing about except for the fact
it was mightily hyped as 'safe and effective'

but the simple truth is I won't ever ask
since I know you'll never go to that place
where if it weren't for unearthly courage
such a question could never be faced.

In a world that's not real I'd ask how it feels
to know that you fell for their trap;
to know how devoutly you touted a jab
reliable liars in positions of trust and power
extolled to no end

but living in the world we do
and being as we'd been the best of friends
I know the sting to admit you were had
would be much too acute to endure
so close on the heels of losing your lad.

2

I curse for your sake and the fate of us all
the day the green light was given
to save the youth from the virus of doom
with miraculous newfangled shots;

the day the grateful eyes of the faithful saw
every god-sent sanctified drop
of zealously peddled faux-medical potion
drawn from each magical vial

as a saviour-like essence
to be injected with reverence
into every precious young child.

3

I'd ask you how it feels
but from deep in your self-imposed prison
of impenetrable self-defensive ignorance
— where denial is the key to survival —
the odds are awfully stacked
that you'll lie to yourself to the last

and unless you're able to answer one day
it's a question I'll never ask.

I'd ask how it feels to have lost your son
so impossibly painfully young
but since losing a child's so much more
than any parent who ever bore such torture
should ever have to bear

unless it's a space you're ready to face
you can rest assured that I'll never go there.