Covid terapeut Skriver poem som innesluter och uttrycker de känslor som behövde få en form i nåt mer än det vanliga deskriptiva sättet att använda orden
Lizzy Pesch fr GMA (Good morning America )

Can’t hold your hand through doors of glass,
Watch nurses touch you as you pass.

It’s not just night shift that’s up at night,
As we all worry that things aren’t right.

Your lungs are on fire, struggling for air,
Because someone without a mask just didn’t care.

Watching you suffer is destroying my heart,
We healthcare workers are falling apart.

When I get dressed for work, it’s not just a job,
When I lose another patient, it’s in my car that I sob.

You see I am human, I bleed just like you,
And with each death that I witness, a part of me dies too.

You’re someone’s Grandma, You’re someone’s son,
And people’s lives are coming undone.

Your body is hurting, and my heart it aches,
As I see the fear that’s across your face.

I know when I touch you, I touch you with gloves,
But underneath there are hands touching with love.

You probably think you’re fighting alone,
But at the end of each shift I’m taking you home.