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Plagued
I walk out from my hiding place to see what is around.
I feel as if I walk on air, then suddenly I hit the ground.
Day in day out, the ritual just seems systemic.
Why do we all feel this way, this infectious pandemic.
Even though we feel this way, we all feel for hope.
It's not a joke, this is no game, it's just a dangling rope.
Until It's put to further use,
The Rope converts into a noose.
Maybe this is just too far, and maybe this is too much,
More harsh is living with the knowledge, your lips cannot be touched.
