This Anthem Is Not Ours To Sing Unending
The tides will ebb.
The moon will go.
This culture is not ours forever.
"The wind will cease to blow"
The mountain shall come low
And these vacations sure, will be over soon.
This culture is not ours forever
No. The merry glees shall return
And These silences shall wither
Yes, this plague will pass
And we shall walk no more six feets apart
Nor find freedom again in solitude
For the earth is only green
When we shake hands
Play and beer hand in hand,
Sleep, walk, shout
and be humans together
This virus is only a Pilgrim.
Copyright © Victor Igiri | Year Posted 2020
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