The days fold in like kneaded dough
unchanged from those preceding
becoming part of this whole crisis.
We all want to return to normalcy
but "normal" will never be
what it used to be.
Our carefree natures are gone;
we will forever live as though
no one can be trusted.
We must keep our "social distance"
in order to remain healthy
affecting our need for intimacy.
Empty shelves will always trigger us,
reminding us of this time
and the strees of it all.
This is the new normal;
nothing will ever be the same
and fear will never leave us again.
This poem is very perceptive,
This poem is very perceptive, and timely, and it is a dire warning.
Starward