Poetry

Descriptions give partial answers.

Listening sometimes explains things.

Other senses can be fooled.

My writing seems to be awkward.

Everything about me is strictly me.

Not you.

The plague hits everyone differently.

Some get paranoid and run away, hiding forever.

Others strut to show how powerful they.

The sickness won’t get them down.

Most live our lives

trying to stay alive

and not be the infected one

next to the neighbours

who are immunocompromised.

The covid 19 rapid test came back negative.

Still, I was paranoid enough to take it.

Which means I should listen to my body

and stay home to recover.

Not usually one that is offered.

The times are changing.

What comes around will continue to go around.

The merry go round is dizzy.

Do not get ice cream.

Simple number.

Precious in its decimal.

Zero interest.

Musical intensity jumps.

One away from percent.

I look forward to small joys.

Treats that feel good.

Talking with people who are positive.

Still I find

all it takes is one person

and my mood goes from grateful

to doubting myself

and all my life choices.

I do not seem to have that happy medium.

Things happen fast.

Sometimes overwhelming.

One thing at a time doesn’t always work.

Juggling all the balls

Means some may be dropped.

Hopefully just not an important one.

Otherwise panic sets in and you might go comatose.

What seems to be the problem.

Is often a mistake that someone refuses to admit to.

Then arguing only gets you more upset.

If it is not fixed.

Life will be hell.

Comfortable.

Just want to be left alone.

Scared of hurting others.

Shamed with guilt by thinking more should be done.

Bitterness about the state of the world.

Hope still flickers.

Moments of joy.

Strength weakens as mood shifts.

Crashes come with tears.

Poor kitten.

Rotten vegetables.

Filthy clothes.

Slavery stinks.

Freedom takes time to wash away the scent.