The Coronavirus Poem
All too little,
as the Coronavirus
takes down the world by mistake.
Government officials standing behind gates
as it rains a blood of money
to keep the economy straight.
Waking up the public to a doom
which is highly frightening
for me and you.
A war with the unseen.
Watching loved ones turning green.
Mortals inflicting pain and death.
Born from the innocent creatures
facing their last breath.
Is this the beginning of the end?
Does it look like we need to pretend?
Maybe it’s about time
we faced our doings;
with an intellectual pen,
found in a white paper, written by middle-class men.
Tell them to wash their hands;
tell them to cough in the corner of their arm;
tell them not to panic
as we can work out the answers
to this growing pandemic.
I’ve read the conspiracy theories;
I’ve seen the stories of screaming women;
I’ve seen the world turn to fire again
while dreaming of a new beginning.
We all want to change;
we all need to act –
with the need to conspire.
So, to my readers and listener’s
I will leave you with this: