Deja Vu

The darkness will persist. The deaths
Will mount, but no one cares. We've
Gotten bored wth isolation. We want
Work and places we can go. The stress
Of always being careful, fearing death
And others' breathing, couldn't be
Sustained. One fights or flies, but
Not for weeks on end. At last, the strain
Becomes too much, and we conclude,
Or so we say, that we'll accept the risk
Of rubbing elbows in a bar. We don't
Believe there's any danger, but there is,
And soon we'll see that darkness
Does persist.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 43 times
Written on 2020-04-29 at 02:01

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