What is to Be

Fri, 12/10/2021 - 11:38 -- jglucia

And now- 

we really are segregated

Not 

by our race

But our fear holding us captive, 

In a six-feet-foreboding-panic of a cage

 

And you see

We scroll and scroll 

One more day comes and goes

Another month passes

Can't go to church because of outbreaks at masses

And there are these thoughts singeing their way like a minotaur in a maze,

an endless cycle of stuck,

Hoping this new normal is just a phase

Many are just trying to get out of this muck

 

With the news spreading sadness, 

watching becomes a 

chore

And death doesn’t surprise us anymore 

And-

And-

And there are

Nine thousand seven hundred and ninety-six.

Dead.

In one day.

Barely keeping our insanity at bay

How 

could we see past the curve?

The cases of death

The ever so inclining of numbers toward the future of uncertainty

How can we see that far ahead?

If school wasn't in bed

and society wasn't fear lead

When there wasn't this overwhelming fear of getting sick

a little voice in your head, repeating over and over again like a

tik

The world: frightened by what the headlines say, 

Only their faith to hold us all up in a messy little tie. 

You say, ‘This’ll all be over soon’-

don’t lie

 

Yet

this discord unites us across the nations 

Demanding for change in exclamations

And our aspiration that everything will be alright,

This unspoken promise, no one will speak of

Is enough to put out the fires of disparities that blaze in humanities

darkest night

And this will all go down in History,

You see

Because now the future 

Is what is to be.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My country
Our world

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741