They stand, blindfolded and muffled,
by false promises and thick skins.
Media lies.
Only propaganda allowed through,
ignoring the doorstep-bedded,
the babies’ hunger-howls,
the sanction-laden masses
huddled against a society cold shoulder-
the exhausted mother
riding the bus home from her third job,
the cancer sufferer,
hauled from her sick bed
to attend a work-based interview.
The ever growing band of ghosts
who reached their limit
haunting small columns and unheated bare-pantry rooms.
The dawning on the asylum seeker,
though not put to death here,
that they are vilified for need-
their second cousins,
the migrant worker or immigrant
propping up our institutions,
working at that which we demean,
yet seen as thieves or worse,
those with a religion non-Christian
feared as extremists or fanatics.
The young whose dreams of independence
are now shattered. A thousand splinters.
Those without food,
a living wage,
a shelter,
a bed,
those who are vulnerable,
disabled,
poor,
while the protected higher echelons
ignore and take more.
Rachel Blake
is a bit of an allsort; she enjoys making art, writing, baking, and challenging
and protesting against policies that punish, stigmatize and isolate the more
vulnerable. She manages (well, mostly) a complex and chronic mental health
condition.
