Gray Clouds

By    

Quarantine, afflicted, addicted, surrounded by walls of fear, masks, death and routine.  Fighting an enemy that one cannot see is like Houdini trying to escape without a key. Is there any end to the humdrum houses of framed confinement the haunted realities brought on by an invisible enemy claiming the souls of many? Searching the streets for relief and a ray of hope from strong leaders but there isn’t any. A land of milk and honey vanishing before our very eyes watching the desperation of many who are trying to survive. The long winding lines of crowds on pounded concrete fighting to gain access to a place of plenty, only to find bare shelves, discourse & violence among many. Walls of life painted gray with uncertainty creating an unpredictable shift in routine, is there any end to this tunnel of grayness labeled quarantine?

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem