Poetry

Virus

There was a time, not long ago,
when days were long but clocks ran slow.
The mood was grim, prospects were bleak,
with seven Sundays in a week.
And none of them were drenched with sun,
and nor did any seem much fun.
Holed up inside, we could not leave
our homes, for lest the air we breathed
be tainted by malignant virus
to wreak destruction deep inside us.

When we look back, it seems surreal.
Was it true that such ordeal
took place in twenty twenty one?
Yet now that all is said and done
it seems so very far away
but in a sense just yesterday.
Are lessons set within our heads
to take all steps to stop the spread
of viruses and other germs?
History repeats if we don’t learn.