Posted in Poems

Trapped in the same nightmare

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I had fun blowing these bubbles. But imagine a future with each in their own bubble, isolated. – Photo by C.E. Pereira

Sunday Mass in my home.
Live streaming from afar.
What we took for granted,
is now, what we yearn for.

It started in one town.
One red pin on the map.
The numbers keep rising.
The map full of red pins.

I’ve seen this on the telly.
Titled ‘The Last Ship’.
Storyline matching ours.
Parallel to our nightmare.

Lots of advice out there.
To stay safe. Be safe.
Pandemic declared.
Panic at the stores.

The barrier is up.
Yet, fear seeps in.
A stillness in the air.
Emptiness surrounds.

It spreads without favourites.
Countries in lockdowns.
Trapped in the same nightmare.
The cure still out of reach.

What does the future holds?
Each in their own bubbles.
A sanitized city inside a dome.
Or zipped in spacesuits.

By C.E. Pereira
(16-3-2020)

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