a poem by Aparna Ajith Dr

Everything turned upside down
With a sudden unforeseen lock-down.

Life became slow and so low
As I have nowhere to go.

“SMS – Social Distancing, Mask, Sanitizer”, they say.
Yeah, my new “MRP – Minimum Requirement Put in” in a way.

The monsoon began beating heavily on my door
This Corona pandemic fails me badly to adore.

Covid-19, the unwelcome visitant spirals like a crown
Grappling in the stand still and quarantine is my town.

March became the cruelest month breeding Corona patients
My brother man becoming a dot on the graph troubled my patience.

Who is going to be our savior,
When a vile virus is showing this pouvoir?

SMS and MRP are a must
From the dusky depths of my heart, I trust.