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Oh now there’s an erstwhile director of our health

A master of manipulation and the art of cover-up

He continually denied the cancers, tumours and lymphomas

All arising from the polluted toxic chemical soils of Wentworth Park.

His advice to politicians, their minders and their ilk

Was to follow government protocol like so many dopey sheep.

Unassailable is the safety in numbers when they cover up the blame.

He professed to be a statistician, showed me books that he had printed

So why his lack of skill to find the cancer cluster in the population

of those few small streets in Wentworth Park.

His crooked guile was ever present when discussion at the table

Many papers were presented but no copies to be taken

Just a quick glance was all that was allowed.

When I asked a simple question of the epidemiologist attending
He asked of the director “What am I allowed to say?”

Doctors were no help, their only explanation for the diseases in our midst

Was to talk about the fallout from Chernobyl and other unlikely places in the sky.

The truth can still prevail in matters covered up.
The future is uncertain but the past is never really past.

Where the cancers go uncounted where the wastes had gone unsorted

In the landfills by the shore  

Where problems don’t exist if you look the other way.

And where our cherished “children of tomorrow”, good neighbours and our friends

Are lost to us forever with no acknowledgment to this day.