My nation is sick,
My brothers are dying, My student lies prone, Drowning. And instead I'm factoring your worth At a measure of six feet at a time, I warrant your voice, your name, your claim, If you thought to wear a mask in kind. No ma'am. You cannot approach me. Yes sir. I can hear you from here. To wander the trails Of the deep night, To visit my ents and my fairies, Then instinctively, immediately Pull my guard up from my neck Upon hearing others from long. Mask on and measure. Take note. And wait. Their gait. Their gaze. The indifferent haze. And I mark a stark Label. Vector. Infector. Enemy.
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Portugal. The Bard.I shout to the void, Archives
January 2022
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