Deserted
It hit unexpectedly like a camouflaged
Snake slithering stealthily in the withered grass
Penetrating the canopied organ around the ankle
A precipitous poisonous dosage of life’s frailty
It hit every country, nation, man and woman with impunity and
We are forced to quarantine in differencing islands
Some children dived into an excess of familial love
Whilst some are isolated with menacing merchants of hate
The smell of fresh breakfast sensationally stimulates the air
The stench of alcohol and the bombardment of verbal artillery
Fills the house with an imitable aroma of disastrous despair,
And society still shamelessly shares no sympathy for the broken
All manners of society are willfully, shamefully and angrily secluded
The virus transferred easily and tenaciously, unlike anything we’ve seen
Hoards of the panicked hoarded supplies of all types including baby wipes—
The elderly was forced to gawk at their empty isles of needed treasures
People sparred in insults, government’s aids came piecemeal and
Those who spoke the wisest, were the ones who most deprived us.
Kevin Jackson is an aspiring filmmaker and writer based in Riverside California. Poetry was Kevin’s first real passion and the works of Emily Dickinson and Edgar Allan Poe inspired him to write more often. He has been published by the Bookends Review. Be hopes to one day soon win an academy award.
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