• Michaela


Here I have people think I want to be alone

That shelter in place means I don't want company

Here I have people who don't see these days of my years

So lonely I'm driven and driving to tears

And here I have hands reaching, unwashed,

And faces are grinning, unmasked,

And all I can see is the grimace and grasp

Of death -- is it really too much to ask?

That claims of compassion extend to my life

And the lives of those we claim to love

It isn't a feeling, love is always a choice,

Why choose to make it so there isn't enough?

Not enough smiles next year 'round the tree

Not enough hugs stowed to be given

Too many funerals, and too many graves,

And too many families riven.

But by all means, cry "freedom" while still in your chains

And take your pride in endangering others

Iron lungs all around us and our avenue to save

Is to be kind to our sisters and brothers.

Put on your mask, wash your fucking hands,

Or are you too soft to care?

I'll tell you one thing, I'm not the snow flake

Forever I'll wonder how you fucking dare.

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