Courage, a flower
In this; my time of winter
I wither away

Covid has claimed some of my close family
and it has not finished yet
maybe if just one other person had bothered to take precautions
somewhere on this Earth
My Father would not be dying in hospital, all alone.

withering smile
fractured skin
dimming moobeam
hinting
tragedies

i grab a pen
and a napkin
cut my words deep
until i bleed
poetries

sometimes
i wish you were the poet
because sometimes
i just want to be the poem