The Death Dealer
A poem about the POTUS and COVID-19
In the span of 7 months, over 220,000 fellow Americans have died. It's over 1 million across the globe. As of July, the United States had 25 percent of all the COVID 19 cases globally but only 4 percent of the world’s population.
However, the president continues to strut across the thousands of dead bodies on his watch. He has lied and denied science for months when in fact, he told Bob Woodward COVID was deadly.
On purpose, he played down the pandemic while families buried, in some cases, multiple family members. Some lost both parents while others watched from afar as a husband or wife died alone in a cold hospital.
For months the CDC predicted a dark winter. Health systems across the nation are becoming overwhelmed again. Doctors and nurses are begging people to wear masks and social distance, but pandemic fatigue is real.
President Trump doesn’t help when he holds a super spreader event at the White House. Over two dozen attendees become infected, including the president. Does he take it seriously? No. Instead, he rides around the hospital like an infected circus clown. Does he care about his secret service? Does he think about their families and the repercussions of his antics? I say no, he doesn’t.
