Gardai Protect a Garda Informer Rapist/Drug Mule/Paedophile recruited by The Dept of Justice Ireland from a Spanish Prison-2000

[Teri]

Too Soft

 

 

Driving away from my Meeting with two consultants

 

The words "Too Soft" Echo in my head

 

They had used the words lightly and did not mean any harm

 

They were innocent to the emotion two simple words stirred

 

Heavy Traffic

 

Road Works

 

Shoppers stepping out n front

 

Slowing down to allow them pass

 

Road rage coming from behind

 

At last I park

 

I close the front door

 

"Too Soft"  simple words screaming in my head

 

The tears flow down

 

I do not sob

 

Silent tears

 

No one to see

 

But if they do,

 

What the heck!

 

"Have you forgotten Garda Geraldine what you did to me

 

When you sat across from me dressed in plain clothes?

 

Plain clothes to hide the fact you were an officer and not a detective

 

A dectective is what you introduced yourself to be

 

Deirdre sat opposite too

 

A shadow of the officer I had met several times before

Madam Geraldine looked at me as if I were beyond human worth

 

Instantly she began her persecution

 

"Are you sure you want to go through with this"

 

"Are you sure you this hanging over you

 

For the next few years?

 

Don't you want to leave it and move on with your life?

 

SAY IT, SAY IT, SAY IT.

 

You think this is bad

Wait until the defence gets you into Court

 

This is nothing to what they will put you through"

 

I looked across at Deirdre

 

Head bent

Limp like figure with no mind

 

I found my voice

 

Deirdre did not make me say those words

 

She did not treat me like this

 

Madam spoke

 

"Deirdre did it wrong

 

Deirdre is too soft"

 

The limp figure spoke without lifting her head

 

"Yes I am too soft"

 

Madam continued with venom accelerated

by the limp one's confession

 

"Say it Say It,#

 

NO THAT'S NOT THE RIGHT WORD

 

SAY IT, SAY IT"

 

I said all the words MADAM demanded to hear

 

The heartless persecutor smirked with ease.

 

Battered and Broken I collapsed into sobs

 

Burning flowing tears

 

Piercing Pain within my being.

 

I signed the paper the persecutor shoved at me.

 

In a pathetic state I whispered "sorry" to the Madam

 

for taking so long in saying the words

She demanded to hear

 

She walked away

 

Not a word of reply

 

"I will be in touch the limp figure said"

 

Off I went into the night

 

The woman I was, no longer alive

Super was sent off on a mission

A Medal to gain.

A phone call

Another Station

Michael the name of an Archangel the Protector against Evil.

He listened

Then with a harshness I readily recognised he uttered:

Sometimes women like to tell their story to officers

Just to make themselves feel better.

Oh go to hell Michael as I say a prayer of contrition to

Archangel Michael for you sharing his name.