They told us it was safe.
They told us it was effective.
They told us everyone was doing it.
They told us not getting it was selfish.
They told us it was the only way
we could study, work, shop, live.
We listened to them.
Why would they lie to us?
We trusted them.
Why would they hurt us?
And every day since
that irrevocable,
life-shattering decision
has been unrelenting
agony and exhaustion,
apprehension and regret,
uncertainty and dread.
Our lives are now a continuum
of questioning,
of searching,
of testing,
of fretting.
They tell us we’re faking it.
They tell us we’re lying.
They tell us we’re imagining it.
They tell us we’re anxious.
They tell us we’re exaggerating.
They tell us we’re grifting.
And once it’s undeniable—
when the diagnostics show
heart damage,
blood clots,
myocarditis,
pericarditis,
cardiac arrest,
hematologic abnormalities,
impaired immune functionality,
shingles,
Bell’s palsy,
Guillain–Barré syndrome,
autoimmune disease,
multiple sclerosis,
transverse myelitis,
neuropathy,
paralysis,
multi-organ inflammation,
leprosy,
strokes,
dementia,
prion disease,
cerebrovascular disease,
brain damage,
tinnitus,
turbo cancer,
DNA integration,
deep vein thrombosis,
post-vaccination syndrome,
multisystem failure—
then they tell us
they’re baffled.
Then they tell us they don’t
know how to fix it.
Every day, we research
as if our lives depend on it,
because they do.
Because only we
and our loved ones
care enough to save us.
For some, we’re a statistic,
a number on a spreadsheet.
For others, we don’t exist.
They don’t want us to exist.
They refuse to see us,
They refuse to hear us,
They refuse to feel us,
They refuse to help us.
Every minute, we scrape together the strength
to endure the anguish,
to resist the gaslighting,
to seek out supplements,
procedures, practices—
anything that will offer relief,
anything that will soften the suffering,
anything that will delay our terminal diagnosis.
They tell us to shut up.
They tell us not to scare others.
They tell us it is rare.
They tell us it was worth it.
And no one takes responsibility—
not the NGOs that hocus-pocused us,
not the corporations that poisoned us,
not the governments that coerced us,
not the agencies that betrayed us,
not the institutions that mandated us,
not the philanthropaths who targeted us,
not the ideologues who ridiculed us,
not the tyrants who scapegoated us,
not the politicians who maneuvered us,
not the enforcers who penned us,
not the psychologists who manipulated us,
not the propagandists who petrified us,
not the experts who hoodwinked us,
not the scientists who head-faked us,
not the censors who erased us,
not the doctors who pushed us,
not the nurses who needled us,
not the pharmacists who stabbed us.
They call us anti-vaxxers.
But we got jabbed?
They call us conspiracy theorists.
But we believed them?
They call us science-deniers.
But we trusted it?
And now we’re on our own—
without support,
without compensation,
without legal recourse.
Some of us have lost
our jobs,
our insurance,
our babies,
our lives.
They don’t need us anymore.
They don’t want us anymore.
They got what they ordered
… and moved on.
Each twinge of pain
is silver in their pockets.
Each desperate scream
is Musak in their waiting room.
Each vaxxicide
is another piece of evidence
buried.
So that’s why we have to live.
That’s why we have to survive.
That’s why we have to fight.
That’s why we have to wage justice.
We are living proof
of their fraud,
of their cruelty,
of their tyranny.
Chisel our truth into your hearts.
Tattoo our stories onto your arms.
Photograph our faces with your minds.
Testify to our torment.
Testify to their lies.
Testify to their crimes.
See us.
Hear us.
Feel us.
Help us.
by Margaret Anna Alice
Inspired by Cody and his mother, Heather Hudson, this poem is dedicated to them as well as Brianne Dressen and React19; Real Not Rare; and all the innocents injured, killed, and bereaved by the “safe and effective” injection.
---
https://youtu.be/exUwYR3rV_I?feature=shared
---
VAXXED: From Cover-Up to Catastrophe
No comments:
Post a Comment