Mr. Minister:
I call him that because that's what he is: a politician;A minister who has nothing to do with what he sold us.
You are up there, Mr. Bernat Soria.He has risen thanks to the struggle of many people, diabetics and relatives of diabetics who believed in you and in his promise to cure diabetes with stem cells.Those people, who have left the skin in demonstrations, collected from signatures, tireless kicks of offices, convincing, supporting, asking, demanding that they be allowed to investigate ...
And these people got you, flag of the fight against this damn disease, to wave at the top, and you were facilitated, and they were paved terrain ...
And those people were glad when they were appointed minister, thinking that now it was you who could pull the car and finally help the diabetics ...
These people went from joy to expectation;From expectation to understanding;of understanding of patience;of patience to skepticism;From skepticism to disbelief and, finally, of disbelief to disappointment ...
You have sold us, Mr. Bernat Soria.You have supported us to climb and, once up, you have forgotten us.
We have been their Kleenex, which are used and thrown away.
Now he goes on TV to talk about Alzheimer's (and does well), the pill of the day after (and does well) or of a thousand songs (and does well) ...
But he has forgotten the diabetics.You have forgotten those who believed you, those who fought for you, who trusted you ...
He has sold us, Mr. Bernat Soria, like a Judas, not for 30 coins, but for an armchair.I hope the armchair, Mr. Bernat Soria, is comfortable, because he has paid it by betraying, and that has a name.
Too bad that the displeasure is not punished but because of consciousness.Are you aware, Mr. Bernat Soria?
Wow, Mr. Minister, go see those people who fought for you so much and explain why the armchair is worth more than them.