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Ode to a Vaccine Nation 
 Shame on the skeptic, it will go unseen
 that phony progressives which go by the way,
 and a short time ago called the corporate machine
 the source of our dismay;
 have yet to find out the fox leads the hens by a trick most obscene.

 Rich heroes indeed that happily leave you, contrary to form,
 to stand by yourself and cold in the rain
 than risk themselves in the storm;
 nor from the tracks would they pull you out of the path of a train,
 yet for the virus, we call them saviors, oh Church of the NEW NORM.

 Lipid nano-particle, escort
 coding sequence into cell -
 reveal to ancient method, what only death before could show...
 tell the secret which Pfizer kept
 and God himself doesn't know.

 Contention of the folk sort,
 her body knows what is well:
 that the cell is not an open door through which just anything goes...
 but a secret worth one million years
 a thousand generations bestowed.

 Shame on you, those selfish who
 won't sell the farm when we say that you must,
 and those distrustful few who say that we've moved
 so far from rebellion that's just. They say:
 Once upon a time you occupied Wall Street, and now They occupy you.

 Shame on you for causing a scene
 when my peers, they begin to get loud:
 "Take your arm out! - there's no need to fear, it isn't even a gene!"
 You refuse to bow when our expert moves to address the crowd,
 "I'm a PhD for heaven's sake!" - do you know what 'in effect' means?

 Some years later I had an occasion to think, with room for epiphany.
 A virus was all that it took to snuff out the will inside of me!
 Not old in my years, but spirit withered,
 on this hill I take a knee;
 put on my mask so you won't see:
 I don't care if I am free.

 Feeling inside, I find no spine where once there stood a tree.
 I'm softer now, with less fight to give than I did when I was three.
 I didn't know how it worked, but knew it was good,
 and that soon you'd also see;
 so many times my finger wagged,
 "Just take the damn vaccine!"

 Now my fingers are gone,
 and so is my sight,
 if I stand too fast my ears will bleed.
 Had I thought for myself
 as I'm doing right now,
 perhaps I might have seen -

 Not shame on you for saying what's true...

 instead, it's shame on me.

 I know that I'm sure, but it mustn't be seen.
 No one can go out, no one can come in.
 All those years it seemed so important to win,
 now I'm sure it was shame on me.

(AM Spencer, 2021)

Shame on the skeptic, it will go unseen that phony progressives which go by the way, and a short time ago called the corporate machine the source of our dismay; have yet to find out the fox leads the hens by a trick most obscene. Rich heroes indeed that happily leave you, contrary to form, to stand by yourself and cold in the rain than risk themselves in the storm; nor from the tracks would they pull you out of the path of a train, yet for the virus, we call them saviors, oh Church of the NEW NORM. Lipid nano-particle, escort coding sequence into cell - reveal to ancient method, what only death before could show... tell the secret which Pfizer kept and God himself doesn't know. Contention of the folk sort, her body knows what is well: that the cell is not an open door through which just anything goes... but a secret worth one million years a thousand generations bestowed. Shame on you, those selfish who won't sell the farm when we say that you must, and those distrustful few who say that we've moved so far from rebellion that's just. They say: Once upon a time you occupied Wall Street, and now They occupy you. Shame on you for causing a scene when my peers, they begin to get loud: "Take your arm out! - there's no need to fear, it isn't even a gene!" You refuse to bow when our expert moves to address the crowd, "I'm a PhD for heaven's sake!" - do you know what 'in effect' means? Some years later I had an occasion to think, with room for epiphany. A virus was all that it took to snuff out the will inside of me! Not old in my years, but spirit withered, on this hill I take a knee; put on my mask so you won't see: I don't care if I am free. Feeling inside, I find no spine where once there stood a tree. I'm softer now, with less fight to give than I did when I was three. I didn't know how it worked, but knew it was good, and that soon you'd also see; so many times my finger wagged, "Just take the damn vaccine!" Now my fingers are gone, and so is my sight, if I stand too fast my ears will bleed. Had I thought for myself as I'm doing right now, perhaps I might have seen - Not shame on you for saying what's true... instead, it's shame on me. I know that I'm sure, but it mustn't be seen. No one can go out, no one can come in. All those years it seemed so important to win, now I'm sure it was shame on me. (*AM Spencer, 2021*)

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[–] • 0 pt

I appreciate that feedback. Thanks very much. I wanted to write it from the perspective of a progressive who had no choice but to demonstrate their own contradictions throughout the earlier stanzas. Toward the end there is a bit of a fast forward to the point where the speaker is having self-realization after it is already too late. Even still, in this moment of realization, you still sense the insecurity of fully admitting the truth. The idea of cognitive dissonance and escalating commitment is something I wanted to communicate.

Also are you OK?

How do you mean?

[–] [deleted] • 0 pt

I mean, there's a lot of pain here, and the whole poem ends with sort of a blackpill. When we create something artistic sometimes we can't help but put some of ourselves into it.

[–] • 1 pt

I want to stress that what inspired me to write this was thinking about (a) a lot of the contradictions in the liberal views on vaccines and, more generally, (b) the distinct change we've seen in what it means to be liberal today. This latter point was something I really wanted to explore here, namely, the way that liberalism has shifted in its character from a general distrust of corporate power, to mindless acquiescence.

So this whole poem is written from the perspective of a liberal that is shaming conservatives for resisting the vaccine. He/she has a reckoning toward the latter part of the poem. So the pain is not necessarily my own, as speaker, but what I'm projecting on the liberal speaker.

That said, I appreciate you asking. I'm almost certainly not OK. :) There is a great deal of pain, to be sure, but I didn't intentionally mean to communicate it was mine with this poem, haha.

[–] [deleted] • 0 pt

OK understood. I think the acceptance of a difficult truth (if it's not too late) is often a positive thing, since we are resolving a mental contradiction in the back of our minds. For me it has been that way.

Contrary to what Oscar Wilde said, the Truth is pure and simple. He later converted to Catholicism on his deathbed - I guess he decided that it's never too late.