Madness of Crowds (A Poem for the Pandemic).

Mortality
on the empty shelves
Of ransacked
Convenience stores.
Vitality in the blood
Of our denied veins.

Fear
in the products we buy
Thinking life can be purchased;
Suffocated in the same
Plastic wrap we use
to cauterize our minds.

Greed
Throbs in cellulite hands
Sagging into the coveted.
Monsters who believe
They are victims.
Taking more than their due.

Ignorance
Is the real pandemic.
Humankind has been
Sick with it
From the dawn of time.
And getting sicker still.

Infinity
Is the folly of the species
That worships whatever
They are told.
Precaution is wise, yes,
But mindlessness leaves us cold.

Compassion
is for the brothers and sisters
You have never known,
Yet observe scurrying to and fro,
From aisle to aisle, warding off
The inevitable.

Solitude
Is the beacon of hope.
That the quarantined fearful may
Pick up a book and gain insight, or
Turn off Netflix to be with themselves
For one, single, solitary moment.

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