The Whistle Blower

Took the sins of the Corporation Upon her shoulders The indignity of her firing Struggling to make ends meet Unemployed, without prospect Children crying, hungry Yet she endured The barrage of punishing lawsuits A legion of lawyers platooned To make her life unbearable Anonymous threats Phone calls and burning Mailboxes Almost beaten, she clung With bleeding fingers to the Inviolable Truth Truth that held her steady Truth that wouldn’t let her go Truth demanding apology The gavel came down. Some hear screams in the dead of night Most continue dreaming The bed so comfortable, and the morning So far away. (Previously published in The Hold, July 2003)