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Eliza Mar 2020
This virus is causing panic
Can everyone just take a break
And stop being so manic
For **** sake
There was less panic over the Titanic.
Stay home for a day to take a break
The world is not ending, don't panic.
It's just a virus
Not something satanic
Don't get pissy with my opinion. I know it's deadly but so is the flu and any other illness. The world isn't ending.
I don't know,
When the news would change.

Or when the streets;
Would no longer,
Be empty again.

But I know the first place,
I'm gonna be:

As soon as its safe,
To hold you,
Once again.
Traveler Mar 2020
Quiet in solitude
Our boundaries
Are set
The news of the day
More cases, more deaths
We  rise our arms to the sky
Joining the cry what's next!

Grocery stores germs
Symptom showing
Exposure  regrets
Wall Street enjoying
Their own socialism
Politician need
To be put in prison

A cure not available
The antidote lost in trust
Tick-Tock ******
Thermometer!  
    The world is in a rush
Baby wipes undegradable
As society takes a flush!

The muses have turn cynical
Sarcasm breaks our vine
But to keep us safe
They'll attempt
To  divinely reassign
Traveler Tim
Madai Mar 2020
Humanity is isolated
Humanity is blind these days
Humanity depends on stories
Humanity got news in spades

Humanity is lost with questions
Humanity in search for fate
Humanity is needing answers
Humanity is really scared

Humanity is scarred forever
Humanity time to embrace
Humanity will come out stronger
Humanity had this before
I tried to describe our state lately due to what's going on around with the spread of COVID-19
vanessa ann Mar 2020
it's a pretty simple recipe, really;
white bread, toasted until golden brown;
a slice of cheese, a drizzle of ketchup;
eggs, beaten;
fry for 4 minutes, or however long you desire.

sometimes i’d snap a pic or two for my friends—
all of whom said it was unhealthy,
but it can’t be more unhealthy than staying up past 2,
can it?

because who cares if i were to eat breakfast at 12pm,
or dine as the sun rises?
the universe sure as hell doesn’t give a ****,
especially not in the middle of a crisis
caused by some ******* virus

it’s not like time gives out prizes,
for everyone who’s managed to maintain a “healthy” routine
and doesn’t spent 18 hours
in front of  a screen

i’m getting tired of compromises
every new problem that arises
hardly surprises
me anymore

so if you’ll excuse me,
i’ll go back to my devices
now
—come again during business hours.
Clay Face Mar 2020
What is loved,
now is cumbersome to engage.

Some sort of lethargy resists my path.
Reaching a state of catharsis is draining now.

Not emotionally but physically.

Stuck in this house, with no way out.
Quarantined from a virus.
But I’ve come down with one that leaches my creativity.

Writing this poem is hard. It feels plastic.
Even though I’m writing clear what’s so elastic.

It stretches around me so true,
But when I speak it, it lies and makes me blue.

I need freedom to return to my soul.
And an inoculate to cleanse it of this toll.

These two ailments leave me,
Chained and restrained.
Mitch Prax Mar 2020
Dear diary;
this world is
falling to pieces-
I can see it on my screen
and I can hear it outside
my window.
Grace Haak Mar 2020
my mind is muddled mush
scrambled to eggs
from filling up on
mind-numbing affairs
snoozing sedentary sores
and piling up on couch potatoes
eating up seconds
in a Netflix solo party haze
brain over-binging
and melting in the
lack
a
daisical
days
heart restless from resting
and raging from being robbed
walking the dog
to get some "fresh air"
but the road is the same
empty and sad
and if anything
the up down, up down
stop sit go, stop sit go
insensates my thoughts more
until it becomes a
swirling mash of sorrow
and bittersweet bric-a-brac
every article, every email
strikes a match that flickers out
but if it catches a wick,
it erupts, although quick
and anger devours my body
and my brain s c r e a m s
and screeches for escape
each lobe pounding
and punching
my nerves on fire
that dies as fast as it started
and then i'm back
waking to reading to running to dying
oily and oleaginous
all my ponders
pounded back into pulp
my horrible macerated mind
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