Waiting for the Cavalry
“The cavalry is coming,”
They would say.
“Hold the fort,”
They would say.
“Help is coming,”
They would say.
Short on hands,
High on tasks,
Fire, fire, everywhere.
What once was teamwork,
Now a one-nurse circus,
A one-man band,
With no tools,
No support.
Left drowning for help,
Unable to sit,
Anxiety spreading like wildfire.
A countdown of hours –
Not enough time,
Not enough hands.
I look around –
Everyone is gone.
The same broken record:
“We hired more staff.”
The same empty promise:
“Help is coming.”
Days, months, a year –
And the cavalry never came.
One day, the words changed.
We hold our breath,
Getting excited, getting motivated,
Waiting for another promise,
A miracle,
For the cavalry that was promised.
At last, you open your mouth and speak –
We hold our breath as you say,
“No help is available.”
This response hurts,
Stings worse than the promise unfulfilled.
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