Once, masks were metaphorical;
pandemics were historical.
Now, cortisol flood makes us
fatter every day.
Isolating’s creating a nation of moles,
nervous of leaving our holes,
as each wave proves more deadly,
We’re wishing consequences on anti-maskers
and anti-vaxxers: be sacrifices for your cause,
carry a card that you’re happy to
leave hospital beds for those who
take this seriously, those
who sacrifice comfort for society.
We’ll try to survive by masking insecurities,
and wait eagerly for our vaccines,
praying variant strains, don’t over-strain us.
Masking anxiety until we can
Breathe easier again.
NaPoWriMo Day 6. Another day ignoring the official prompt ’cause I had other stuff in my mind. Weird how often I’m playing with rhyme this week.