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Red Pill Poet's avatar

This poem was revised on September 1, 2025.

Red-Pilled ER Nurse's avatar

You’ve done it again.

This one hurts

Whether it is to an individual close to you, known to you, or to any one of the too many parents whose reality you describe

This piece packs a punch

Red Pill Poet's avatar

Yup ... it's painful, after all "the truth hurts". But it's nowhere near as painful as siding with lies.

Deceit eats the soul. And whether they actively further deceptions or merely subscribe to denial, whether they know it or not, deceivers (of either others or themselves) succumb to spiritual cancer.

Truth is our detoxicant … “hurts so good”.

MUNCHY's avatar

Very moving and on point.

Red Pill Poet's avatar

As if language were a quarry, and words were chunks of rock, we build towers of truth, block by quarried block, to help us see above and beyond, the devastated, mendacity littered landscape. Sorry ... couldn't help myself.

MUNCHY's avatar

So that makes you a stonemason, a craftsman who arranges stocks and rocks so they make something beautiful...and useful.

Red Pill Poet's avatar

Stonemason ... sounds good!

Freemason ... not so much.

Margaret Anna Alice's avatar

Bone-chillingly honest. Made me think of Seamus Heaney's "Mid-Term Break" (https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/57041/mid-term-break), but yours is even more harrowing.

Red Pill Poet's avatar

Yes, that's quite the “break”! A “foot for every year”.

With regards to my poem, I think it bears pointing out, that the real, implied diabolical genius, resides in the fact that discussion and/or contemplation of the cause of the child's death is psychologically off-limits … a programmed Stockholm syndrome, as it were, of which the psychopathocracy would have been all too aware in their plans.

And of course, no discussion and/or contemplation, equals no lessons learned by the victims and no legal reckoning for the criminals. In short, the perfect crime … by design.

Red Pill Poet's avatar

As usual, a darn fine read. And Bob and Anne's cartoons are spot-on memish.

I had no idea Glenn was vaxx-unaware as late as January 22, 2022 ... so sad!

Margaret Anna Alice's avatar

Thank you, RPP, and I have a feeling he is still wearing blinders, probably partly for the reasons you illuminated in your poem 😢

Red Pill Poet's avatar

I read the "straddler" many moons ago. Now I'll have to read "mirandas". Thanks!

Joan's avatar

I want to print this poem and frame it. So precisely have you described a dear friend of mine who gets every Covid shot that is offered.

Red Pill Poet's avatar

Thanks ... so glad it resonates with you.

Speaking of "every Covid shot that is offered", on Saturday night I was talking to a friend who I'd heard had undergone surgery of some sort or other a few months ago. I'd assumed it was a knee or hip surgery. It turns out it was cancer! Not only that, but he said he'd taken ALL the boosters.

Long story short, I suggested that the jabs were, more likely that not, the cause of his cancer. I also later emailed him info on repurposed drugs (Ivermectin, Fenbendazole, Menbendazole). It will be interesting to see if he chooses to include any of these in his treatment.

The Cosmic Onion's avatar

I feel your pain. Some truths cut too deep to ever be spoken out loud.

Red Pill Poet's avatar

"Some truths cut too deep to ever be spoken out loud." — Fact!

Alison H.'s avatar

Will the walls of denial ever fall? Maybe for a few... Such a powerful poem. We can see the carnage around us...but it's still a big mystery to the many...and it only seems cruel to bring up the subject.

Red Pill Poet's avatar

"Maybe for a few" ... agreed! The majority will take it to their grave ... unless the herd were somehow turned around. Sheeple, after all, are sheeple, and will follow the herd no matter what, no matter where. Unless the MSM / Mighty Wurlitzer herding machine relents, it don't look good.