What is to Be
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.