Simple yet a affective
We dream of the day without needing disinfectant
It's not that we are *****
It's that we are
And never will be clean
Enough
We will never be 100%
No germ
No *******
It's written in pen
But you accidentally smudged it with your freshly cleaned linen
We live in a world where everything is a mess
But optimistically call it's it
"A little spill"
Or "a few crumbs"
You never hear anyone talk about how ****** the world is
Like they're going to get something done
Not any sort of panic
No fear of the unknown
It's become so normal
That we forget that we are owned
Some one has a file with our name on it
In a drawer, in a room with only one door
But someone locked it
And no one knows who
But if there is anything to look forward to
There is a door
And behind it
The world is so much more