03-29-2015, 02:13 PM
(This post was last modified: 03-29-2015, 02:16 PM by Kharon.
Edit Reason: Wrote it then forgot to post it - I know, i know. Back to my knitting.
)
After the ball is over.
When the music stops, the candles are snuffed, the orchestra is packing up and last of the tired waiters are cleaning up the rubble; look into the garden and see who is sitting alone; there in the moonlight, waiting for a carriage which will never appear. It is only a small group:-
There stands a flight nurse; wracked with pain, tortured by a bleak future, unable to work and fully support her children. Hurt in body and mind, insult added to injury by an uncaring cynical system which could, if it tried, care less about the fate of her or her family. Innocent victim of preventable accident and a callous system.
There is a man who used to be able say he was a professional jet pilot, one who made a mistake and paid dearly for it, twice. Yet a cold blooded, self protecting administrative system not only denies him rehabilitation, but actively, overtly and clandestinely prevents not only penance but salvation and the right to earn an honest living in his chosen profession. Victim to a callous system.
There sits a Doctor, bright, caring and willing to undertake the adventure of aero-medical transport. Damaged in an accident, serving as an essential crew member, now facing a future with a limited working capacity. Innocent victim of preventable accident and a callous system.
To one side, sitting quietly a troubled man; one who has recently lost his wife after a long battle, exhausted by the cares and woes of legal and financial burdens, imposed by no fault of his own. Innocent victim of preventable accident and a callous system.
Everyone else involved is on their merry way home, well paid, replete with the good things of life to enjoy the peace and quiet of their homes, to recuperate their energy and look forward to doing all again, next week.
Our small group must wait for a carriage to their destinations while the ghost of Bernie Curral hovers anxiously in the shadows, praying the rain holds off long enough for them to realise, it’s a long, slow, cold walk home, after the ball is over and no one cares enough to offer a ride.
Is this the Australia we want to live in? what a sad, tragic, mean minded, trite little bureaucracy we have become. Aye; Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.
Selah.
- See more at: http://auntypru.com/after-the-ball-is-ov...sJFTy.dpuf
When the music stops, the candles are snuffed, the orchestra is packing up and last of the tired waiters are cleaning up the rubble; look into the garden and see who is sitting alone; there in the moonlight, waiting for a carriage which will never appear. It is only a small group:-
There stands a flight nurse; wracked with pain, tortured by a bleak future, unable to work and fully support her children. Hurt in body and mind, insult added to injury by an uncaring cynical system which could, if it tried, care less about the fate of her or her family. Innocent victim of preventable accident and a callous system.
There is a man who used to be able say he was a professional jet pilot, one who made a mistake and paid dearly for it, twice. Yet a cold blooded, self protecting administrative system not only denies him rehabilitation, but actively, overtly and clandestinely prevents not only penance but salvation and the right to earn an honest living in his chosen profession. Victim to a callous system.
There sits a Doctor, bright, caring and willing to undertake the adventure of aero-medical transport. Damaged in an accident, serving as an essential crew member, now facing a future with a limited working capacity. Innocent victim of preventable accident and a callous system.
To one side, sitting quietly a troubled man; one who has recently lost his wife after a long battle, exhausted by the cares and woes of legal and financial burdens, imposed by no fault of his own. Innocent victim of preventable accident and a callous system.
Everyone else involved is on their merry way home, well paid, replete with the good things of life to enjoy the peace and quiet of their homes, to recuperate their energy and look forward to doing all again, next week.
Our small group must wait for a carriage to their destinations while the ghost of Bernie Curral hovers anxiously in the shadows, praying the rain holds off long enough for them to realise, it’s a long, slow, cold walk home, after the ball is over and no one cares enough to offer a ride.
Is this the Australia we want to live in? what a sad, tragic, mean minded, trite little bureaucracy we have become. Aye; Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.
Selah.
- See more at: http://auntypru.com/after-the-ball-is-ov...sJFTy.dpuf