The Plague of Anxiety
On Sunday, the sweet soft tone of the choir was muted
The church pews were brimming with dust
Ushers were unable to give directions
For even the congregation was stuck up in isolation
Preachers had to minister to the echo of their own voices
No trace of humanity has witnessed such a calamity
A pandemic with the propensity to spread faster than fake news
The entire globe is bleeding a single wound
We have to stay at home to avoid the blood stains
Meeting friends and family seem to be the good old days
The latest trend is keeping a distance and washing your hands
Who knows?
What's in the air or exactly how this thing spreads?
The beautiful feeling of just going out and getting fresh air
Now, it seems like a bad idea
This Plague, like a fiend, feeds the earth thousands of righteous victims every day
It's striking a newly sharpened double edged sword into the hearts of mortals
This is not just a virus, it's fear itself
Take precaution!
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
