#SonnetsFromTheTortureDays 17: Cold Comfort

So, Dominic and Boris got the bug:
I’m trying now, to wisely choose my words.
Don’t want my ethical position blurred
I almost want to roll my eyes, and shrug.

And while I’m hardly going to send them hugs
And kisses, thoughts and prayers, it feels absurd
To celebrate their joining of “the herd”
To gloat about the graves that they have dug

Themselves, when it’s the graves of thousands more
I mourn. The schadenfreude’s wearing thin
Because these two, when faced with our demands

For swift responses, funding; just ignored
The cries, told us to “take it on the chin”:
They’ll never wash that blood from off their hands.