It was there in the skies. The storm was upon us.
Grey, howling winds - doom.
so broke the storm but no land was Ahoy.
Not for us. The vote was cast and once again,
We are set adrift; their admissions of plunder whistle in the wind,
Hushed confessions of Others votes.
Notes of discordant guilt are clear; knowing they X marked the spot for their own treasure, leaving Us with.. sand?
Should I judge? Ignorance, willful or otherwise, is still ignorance at best.
Lies, at worse.
We are afraid and still at sea, so we cling to each other; Sharing, Tweeting,
Signing a thousand messages cast into bottles,
We cry out, enraged but… true deafness has no truck with sensory loss!
We are brave, bold and ask the questions they do not want to hear.
And for their answers They patronise us,
As if we are children with `bad dreams'...
"Of course we'll `look after' you! Of course we care..."
Silly children, ungrateful child. Useless Eater.
Were we EVER the pirates that ransacked the treasure trove?
Blame was laid on our shores; we the one-eyed, legged, crooked villains of old...
Weather changed. Vote was cast. The `Care’ Bill came in afore the new Bluer-than-Blue Tide.
Have our rights to Independent Living gone whistling in that wind?
We cannot remain plundered.
It is time to take back, push forward.
Raise the cutlass.
Skull & Crossbones flag still flutters and the storm will rage again.
The spirit of our fallen crew will not rest;
So we breathe the salty air, dust off sand, hoist anchor and set sail AGAIN because this
Battle is not yet over. This tide must be turned...