I glanced at meself in the mirror, desolate
With a flicker of hope from the browning hyacinth
The ever growing death count does reverberate
Yet the coppers can’t subdue the rendezvous at the barbeques.
The shutdown has turned the supermarkets into a labyrinth
Of fighters and hoarders, hunters and gatherers at their best
Uprooting civil order by the plinth
They overthrew, beyond their stack of cashews they overdrew.
Is this the penultimate survival of the fittest?
Are we conformists to the rule of the jungle?
Or is it but an orchestrated test
On our patience, our pride and our virtues?
Our weakest links, chained like a dongle
To ventilators, gazing upon the eyes of Medusa
Our strongest, asked to simply stay home yet we bungle
‘Tis the circle of life until Karma cycles us into its ruse.
Oh you Homo sapiens! Stop the art of the traducer
Let the abutting calamity unite us
In the eyes of the Reaper, every one’s a sore loser
Your Montague is decimated into its residues when it’s your turn to give adieus.
In these vicious times, you and I might be nervous
But for once, the well-oiled machine of capitalism may corrugate
Remember, our smiles are ever more infectious
And a great breakthrough awaits us, Yabba Dabba Doo!