Another miserable one from the heart of lock down.


Ne Pas Toucher

The brush of a hand
The touch of a finger
Keeps spreading the virus
The present that lingers

Invisible gift
No taste and no smell
Five days incubation-
then fourteen to quell

Who guessed that a fear
such as this
nature-made
Could cause us to panic
To make us afraid

Wash your hands till they bleed
As there isn't a cure
Still the kids might be safe
As it targets mature..

Stay indoors
and be scared
Don't go out
Don't leave town
Cause a virus is wearing the terrorist's crown.




Poetry by Mack
Read 25 times
Written on 2020-05-23 at 13:16

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ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Aint that truth!
Ken D
2020-05-23