Long, long ago,
Like the Lord of the Rings,
An epic tragedy formed,
At this start of all things.

Many moons have now passed,
Since I was asked by a friend,
"Write a poem about Covid",
"To look back at the end"

Government guidance unclear,
Shambolic, inept,
"Stay at home" oft they cried,
As alone in their homes, many thousands they died.

They dillied, they dallied,
From their safe ivory towers,
As the funerals passed by,
With no grieving or flowers.

Many suns have now set,
Countless days have since past,
With families left absent,
As dear relatives breathed their last.

Staying away must be tough,
But it's what you must do,
Harsh they appear, but these are the rules,
Tho not meant for me, they apply just to you.

This Europe we've left,
With our death rate immense,
Now this Europe we lead,
Our leaders bereft of simple common sense.

Then there's that bloke called Cummings,
And his car trip while blind,
On his wee jaunt to Durham,
Tho if you or I, we'd be heavily fined.

But we're not all angels, we must share some blame,
Being "all about me", so selfish our goals,
Stocking up on pasta and hand sanitiser too,
Oh and of course, we can't forget bog rolls.

Basic hygiene was lacking, or so it appears,
Like being back at school,
Wash your hands all the time,
20 seconds the rule.

Simple instructions we were given,
So easy to follow,
Delivered by leaders,
With emotions so hollow.

On how poorly it's been managed,
So much could be said,
But the one thing that matters,
Is tens of thousands lie dead.

So! My feelings on Johnson?
If you ask I'll be blunt,
But to fit with my rhyming,
This poem "is to be cont..."