DecPoWriMo 9

There are no cries or tears 
Or memories to be concealed
They are burying numbers
In potters field

They count the statistics
The dataviz our ignorance reveals
They are burying our think pieces
In potters field

The disinformation grows
The stones sprouting around the wheels
They are shifting the dirt
In potters field

These are days fewer of us remember
So many moments a lifeless protein steals
They are raising the ground
In potters field

They say there is nothing to be done
No way that power itself can wield
Any lesson to be gleaned
In potters field

To think of the voices silenced
The wounds a vaccine cannot be healed
They may keep some spaces vacant
In potters field