Sep 8, 2021
2 min read
Anger
A poem about being a MD in this crises.
Where does one go when the anger is unremitting? No breathing app, no forest walk, no songbird stills the heart.
How does one sleep when the heart is seething? All effort resisted with such great force as to take the breath away.
Calls of “watch-out, is that really wise” met with scorn or bewilderment. Witness of horrors in the name of…
