Apocalyptic pockets, emptying their sorrow,
Careful pockets filled with love abound.
Selfless pockets, astounding,
Pockets, fragile pockets.
Hiding indoors, make not a sound.
Advice falling on ears that hear now.
No street walking.
Stay out of the shop.
Reduction in numbers soon,
Maybe tomorrow,
Or the day after.
These darkened moments will stop.
They must,
Fill up your metaphoric pockets, with unreal angel dust.
As only you must!
(C)LIVVI