blue blank mouths
stress flecked eyes
trolleys clatter
on distanced supermarket aisles
some are disbelievers
but I care
fear of being without the blue
could lead
or expect me to believe
that the clinging virus
will seize me
cough me, choke me
scratch at my very existence
yearning to succumb
I see government puppets
dancing at the pulpit
unconcerned in growing deaths
the many fallen
that are just statistics
in a pawns game
a bold buffoon
graces our world stage
but we must
be a trusting many
holding the values
of love, friendship
and being neighbourly
it will go
but the blue will stay
and for that
i am glad
Chris Lawrence is a poet, writer and scriptwriter journeying the literary world. He tweets @clawfish.
