#WritcoPoemChallenge
#CoronaVirus
The days too eventually fell silent,
No sounds, not even by the crows,
All you could hear was the sound of,
Fear knocking on the doors,

I'm socially phobic, thought it wouldn't affect me,
Then I realised that I couldn't access "Official Therapy".
Well, I could still self-medicate!

Alcohol was still for sale,
Allowed, even positively encouraged,
Money still had to be made,
For "medicinal purposes" only of course.
To keep up our courage.

As for the "Black Market", well there was no interruption.
Business as usual for those "in the know!".
Those who always dealt in corruption.

Goods still moved, if people did not.
The human spirit would not be forgot
Either way, good or bad,
Life carried on, we would not go mad.

Hero's and Heroine's - both emerged,
From amazing sources,
Like "Major Tom",
A previous War Hero and still fighting on,
He inspired a Nation.

"Biological Warfare" had been discussed and taught,
In a different arena in what he'd previously fought.
He Soldiered on, overtaking his own steps,
Truly inspirational.
People shed tears.
A Knighthood he gained - well and truly deserved.
A very wise man, over 100 years!

Then came the idea of your own "Safety Bubble",
Four people together, no more and preferably less.
Extremely good at this "unprecedented time"
As the Newsreader professed.

We all listened in,
We were all yearning, needing communication.
But how to stay out of trouble,
Stay safely confined within your chosen "Bubble"

I had a mate at the time, unfortunately, he's now dead,
It wasn't Corona, it was Cancer instead.
But the Police turned up and kicked us out.

We were trying to provide support in his last days.
"Bless you Pete, my dear friend, I'll never forget,
The laugh we were having at the film's
That you played".

But the Schizophrenic upstairs, also without support,
Had a psychotic attack.
He got paranoid that people were going to come through his doors.
In His mind, He was "The Rebel" with a life-saving cause.

He was self-medicating too,
Had a "home grow" going on,
Paranoia visited him.
We all understood but could not forgive,
The Police, who I suppose were just "doing their job".
Kicked us all out .

I never saw my dear friend Pete again.
He was given "palliative care"
The kind way of saying, "you're going,
But we are here - and you are there..."

Pete ended up in the Hospice,
Thank all the deities for that.
He rang me and said,
That he was feeling much better,
He wouldn't end up dead.

I think they call it "the second wind",
My mind fell apart, he said they were letting him out,
Just for 2 hours but we had to wear masks
No problem my friend I can't wait to see you again.

It never happened, the Cancer took over,
But the memories remain,
I cry rivers of tears.
For my dear friend Pete.
Not enough years.

© Elricessa