Busy with things that make up life.
We recognise faces that shine with delight.
Feelings are shown, and emotions are torn –
as we dance away the night in the flashes of this storm.
The pandemic is coming!
We’ve been told.
Run for your ‘Face Masks’ and wash your hands with soap.
I’m struggling to breathe.
My immune system is weakening.
They stole my immunity from all this conditioning.
I can’t see your face anymore.
Are you smiling or giving out a yawn?
I’m keeping my distance,
the hand sanitizer stings
but we’re in this together
until the wind blows out the swarm.
I don’t know anyone positive.
The economy needs to be reborn.
Banks have made up the monies
so our kids, kids will never know.
I think there’s something else going on.
Will you wake up tomorrow and sing the ‘Black Crow’ song?
Maybe one day we will find out!
When the Face Masks are removed,
and we can all shout at the media
for filling us with doubt.
Did you enjoy this poem?
Here’s another poem about the Coronavirus.