A Fool's Death
Drop after drop
my calm burns by the cold fireplace
like the rain on the glass, reminding
me of a taping dance.
Patience is the bastard son of virtue
running in short supply.
The wind is adding to the window's torment,
impatiently watching my sorrows
etched on my forehead.
I go out, drenching my haunting fears
adding to my quarantine torment.
Can't leave the house cause I have
a compromised immune system unallied
with my self-restraint.
Sky's clear now, water cleaner, the
bitter chill's definitely over.
Not wearing your mask, that's alright
we 'll fix you with something light-colored
to wear, good now lay your head back
and let me be clear, your fool's act
has cost you your life and now we're in the air.
Copyright © Kaveh Afrasiabi | Year Posted 2020
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