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by
Eliot
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Born
Poems
May 2020
If pandemic was a poem
Then I'll be stuck in the epicenter
Of a very catastrophic outbreak
I'll be exposed
Maimed
and wonder if technology
Is the cause or savior of my fate
I won't listen
and settle on a very reasonable ignorance
I'll cling to God
Like we always do
And wonder if I'll go back when this is over
I'll blame everyone but myself
Rant and explore probabilities
I'll do what we do best
I'll be human
Written by
Born
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Christian Bixler
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Thomas W Case
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The Sick Red Carnation
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Edmund black
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Richard Barnes
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