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Come here kids and listen
We're gonna play a game
It's just like tag, a little
And Covid is it's name

The whole wide world is playing
It's a simple game to play
Everyone has cooties
The idea is stay away

The game has no time limit
It may last a month or more
You can win it if you listen
That's what this poem is for

You don't want the cooties
You don't want to be it
The idea is keep your distance
This game may take a bit

One way to block the cooties
From getting in your space
Wash your hands like we do
And do not touch your face

You don't know who has cooties
Who is it and who is not
So, stay close like we tell you
And then you won't get caught

This game is really something
I'll tell you when it's done
Just follow my instructions
And we'll keep on having fun

So, one, two, three...we're playing
Don't let the cooties in your space
Wash your hands like I do
And do not touch your face
how to explain the Covid-19 to little kids without scaring them
Ken Pepiton Apr 4
Old boomer story, I have two pre boomers left alive,

among men who claim to have known me when.

Soon enough their side of this story will be gone,
and mine will be main,
ever after.

That's how chapters work in the book of life.

Many ways, manifold, aye, yess mirror in mirror,

infinite loops are possible to imagine,

but you can't realize one for more than an hour, try.

My chapter includes you and those two old guys when they were

five and six years older than me, the big kids,

but my uncle and my cousin,
who taught me all I ever learned about survival of the fitist.

Pick on somebody smaller, big fish eats the little fish,

toddler boy chokes the cat and big boy laughs.

I was the only one who did serious time,

and HMMM self analysis bump in the views, we may have

felt an earth quake, just after seven, yes
in the desert, west of the Blythe intaglios, yes

peak super bloom about two weeks, a guess, maybe sooner

-- end call

my truth made me free and you don't know if that's a lie,

and that could be funny,
under these circumstances, you might know.
odd the things we think true when we are old and recall a missed connection
Maria Etre Mar 30
When I hear your voice in isolation
my whole house sways to your godly presentation
that voice now has a different kind of appreciation
when it's the only thing that sends my heartbeats
into constant vibration

It's not the word nor the caption
it's the sound that's now given in ration
to switch on a photographic imagination
of the value of a throwback life, seen through an application

Send me your voice
I am done with pictures and links
bring back the call
the call
of you
Quarantine Times: Call him or her, let the voices sing a conversation, or have you forgotten how to?
dessa Mar 11
you ran so fast to chase
after him;
so fast that
you left
yourself.
never chase someone not worth chasing
Traveler Oct 2019
The winner's lose
Happiness descends
Death awaits
Rigor mortis sets in

An empirical delusion
Blinded by grief
The most logical wisdom's
Eventually deceive

At the bottom of ism's
Awaits the final collision
At the gates
Of all that rhyme
A funeral dirge
Reconciled with birth
In the calming state
Acutely sublime

How can the enlightened
Not fear death?
Surely we all
Struggle for breath
Holding life in
As long as we can
I will give you my heart
But only on lend

Perhaps Poet's
Understand the rhymes
Contemplative in nature
Destine to arrive
  Removing the blinders
That death is a lie
......................
Traveler Tim

Live for yourself, there's no one else
More worth living for
Begging hands and bleeding hearts will only cry out for more

Neil Peart
do not name that thing you wish to know
take such a weighted title
make a security blanket of that thing
sleep in a mirage and lie
down in bedsheets other than your own -
if you wake up in the morning after
covering up lies with that thing
you will not put your demons to rest
do not think if that thing feels safe
you love that thing recklessly -
it is in our nature to yearn
for that thing to have our back
infatuation being our downfall
lustful happenings disrupting
the consistency you want to name -
do not name that thing
because a title can never change character
and that thing is always
stubborn
hannah Aug 2019
This is selfish
And I know
I know
I always do
But that doesn't stop me
From self absorbed thoughts
Then panicking
When I notice
Then slicing open
My thighs
Bleeding out
My lies
It's such a vicious cycle
And it's only
The start
I won't say
That I'm not ashamed
Of the things I've done
Of the person
I've become
But I also can't say
That I didn't want this
That I didn't
Ask for this
Because I did
And I deserve it
I don't remember a time
When things weren't wrong
It's the subtleties
The little things
I looked up
On my first phone
The pinching
The picking
The restricting
I was only eleven then
I made friends
I shouldn't have
I opened my arms
To the whole world
And it rushed in
Too fast
I wasn't ready
I know that now
But I asked for it
And I can't change
The past
The first time
My mother told me
She was worried
I wondered why
I was always
The one who worried
The one who noticed
The anguished faces
Who pressed her ear
To the bathroom door
And heard the muttered
Conversations
About things
And how they go wrong
And always
It seemed
I was the heart of it all
So I was scared
I wanted to change
I haven't known a day
Without shame
In at least five years now
That's an awfully
Long time
To survive
In the wild
Menacing darkness
Just a child
A babe in the woods
How would you feel
If that babe knew
About the monsters
The creatures of the deep
All the bad things
That most people
Run from
And she took them
With a scream
That was me
I was lost
I still am
To some degree
There are scars
That will never fade
But it was all
For a rush
That highlight
Starstruck
Moonlit night
When I cried
For so long
Because I couldn't have him
Or her
Or them
Or anyone
In particular
And it all climaxed
Again and again
There doesn't seem
To be an end
Just more walls
In my twisting maze
Every time
I see a light
It turns out
It's just a phase
An illusion
A ghost
Of something I never had
Maybe if she hadn't died
Maybe if they'd never fought
Maybe if I'd been a
Better child
None of this
Would've happened
There must be
Another world
Where I find happiness
But that's not mine
That's not me
I'm the timeline
That everyone is glad
They don't belong to
I'm the mess
The perfect tragedy
My parents
What do they even
Think of me
I can imagine that
Hospital fees
Add up pretty quick
And with all that I've done
I'm not worth
What I cost
I'm just a mess
A disaster of a girl
I was never meant to be born
But he died
Instead
And here I am
Dying for the light
But unwilling
To venture out
I guess I'm
Sick and twisted
In a number of ways
But more than anything
I'm scared
And I'm not enough
I'm not skinny
Like I was
I can barely show
My face in public
I can't wear shorts
Except around the house
And I hate myself
So much
Most of the time
That dying often seems
Like the only answer
I'll never stop coming back to
So yeah
My depression
So big and ugly
I'm unable
To untangle
Its reflection from mine
We're so
Intertwined
I've been here for so long
It's grown around me
It's a dying tree
And I am dying with it
To anyone who has made it this far: thank you. This is barely a poem, more like some catharsis I've needed for a while. If you read that all... thank you. Thank you. You know more than everyone, pretty much. Thank you for listening. You don't have to give me a single thought. Just knowing that you've heard, and you've seen what I've done, and I'm still alive despite a witness to the **** I've created and destroyed... that is enough. It's worth more than any comment or like or repost. Don't worry about those things. If anyone gets this far, you've done enough.
chlorine Jul 2019
betrayal is a dance
discouraged,
yet you still take my hand
to a melody misunderstood,
the rhythm becomes lost
within the loneliest liar
lying safe tonight
Words' Worth Jul 2019
Plays are good acting
It's just the bridge
Where moonlight suffices
An expectant disease
This a tool
A trumpet with no tusk
L Jun 2019
Moving
Shaking
Breaking
Shifting and creating
It is now new. It will never be as it once was.
Change is the only constant in this life we have. In these lives we
lead.

To break bridges to build staircases.
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