These days are wrong

The calendar progresses

as the sun grows long

There remains the sense

that these days are wrong

White and fuchsia blossoms

burst forth into light

The lawn grows apace

yet something’s not right

The sun has been sparing

cloud and rain more the rule

Invisible winter that reaches

like some dreaded ghoul

This grey pallor that creeps

between each ray of light

sucks the life from our waking

by some phantom fright

Using statistical models

these tyrants masquerade

as some kind of saviors

to support their charade

We can see through you

there is no mistake

the more that we give you

the more you will take

We don’t fear this virus

and this much is true

Only one menace we face

and clearly it’s you


One thought on “These days are wrong

  1. Ferguson Murderson, “scientist” sly,
    Sold his soul for a porkie pie.
    Now, we must wait till he goes to Hell;
    And our Ford Wenty’ll be there to tell.


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