During the lockdown, I didn't do much writing and wasn't inspired like some to write about Covid or the lockdown in general, as I figured there would be enough people doing this already.  The poem below is a new and first draft.  It is meant to be messed up like the whole crisis and covers things I have heard said from a whole host of people and media.  Comments please and anything I could add to ...

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The closest I could find

to the end of the world

Pleasing package

under a crumbling roof

Reach for the magic button

Silent and bitter protest

with only one wish

no school

A chocolate mouth that's warm as wet

Hurting like Hell

Just a tearaway

Distant star, our world that ended.

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GOTHIC STORM

Gothic storm across the heavens, splitting

the sky in two creating a rip in the fabric

of the sky into which the earth will fall,

doomed and dead into the abyss of time

forever more. We are the generation of the damned,

condemned to be this for the rest of our lives

until we die, by our own hand

or that of Old Father Time or of our enemies,

stalking us ...

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