I considered titling this poem “Lasting Effects”, but I prefer the blatancy of this title instead.
By Michelle Garren Flye
Don’t do that, it will make you sick.
Don’t go out—don’t even try.
The virus is out there, it’s too quick,
You can’t outrun it, you can’t defy.
But what if it never ends?
What if we’re stuck this way?
There may be no amends
If the virus is here to stay.
Fear has found a place of assembly,
Even in the hearts of the brave.
Soldiers cannot fight this enemy,
And maybe there is nothing to save.
Maybe this is what we’ve earned
Through years of war and strife—
When we’ve never really learned
What’s important in life.