Growing up was lonesome,
Didn't believe I was awesome,
In fear of everything,
Self esteem was nothing.

Oh, what time to be alive!
To see, to see! The wicked stumble!
The untouchables believed they'd survive,
In the secret place of their bubble;

Now the story is about them,
Premium the access to the world,
Going thither or whither the globe's stem,
Even where they're not called;

While the poor are behind curtains,
Unsure, restless, hoping against uncertainty,
In the darkness, praying against unseen restraints,
Bound by a shared impoverished humanity;

The authorities of heaven,
Have laid the tables even,
Gifted our oppressors a mighty burden,
Occupied from dawn and beyond eleven.

Every one easily recognisable face,
Has come down with the virus,
From Norway to Australia, an alarming pace,
Isn't this a circus?

Like an oblique propaganda,
Set to cause global apprehension,
It employs celebrities into its agenda,
Just to further heighten a campaign of confusion;

Europeans have caught it,
Footballers, too,
People of colour can get it,
Even world leaders, too;

Thus the story unfolds,
Of how the world unites in terror,
Panic, fear in great manifolds,
Grips the planet in total horror!

I was born in a leap year,
I mean, that's not a bad thing,
Could have been worse, my dear,
Like a venomous wasp sting;

But as I've come into being,
February twenty-nines marked fear,
Come to expect some terrible happening,
Something to scratch the world's ear;

The calamities following leap years,
Are far more bizarre, horribly so,
For there's a multiplying of tears,
Reaping four times the evils we sow;

I lost my dear father in a leap year,
Failed high school and had to repeat,
My own mentor drowned my hopes beyond repair,
And my beloved girlfriend broke my heart in a beat;

Suddenly, from the far East,
And spreading through the West,
Rises a deadly and unseen beast,
Eating up the elderly and infecting the rest;

It's a few months in,
Tragedies recorded are alarming,
The future is amply frightening,
Yet 'tis mere introduction to horrors we have seen.

No one can tell my story,
Any better than I experienced them,
Those cold and trembling nights,
When my body ate it's own fat;

Felt abandoned by my parents,
Left to the mercy of strangers,
That took me in, forgot to feed me,
Watched me shrink to the bone.

I wear something larger,
As I have acquired a frame, bigger,
The years have added their toll,
But I am on a positive roll;

Everything that my closed eyes have dreamt,
With open reality I have learnt,
That life will give as much as it takes,
No regretting free opportunities and one-night forsakes;

In four decades a lot have transpired,
My father has for four years expired,
Dear mother suffered a grieving stroke,
And many times I have been badly broke;

I found a wife, woman of my rib,
And twice, we have filled our crib,
A boisterous girl, now three,
And a charming boy, four months lovely to see;

So I have considered my days,
And reflected on my ways,
To the owner of my soul, many thanks,
For many never swarm this banks;

As the other half looms large,
Setting off on a greying, more introspectful barge,
I pray the seas be milder, blessed kinder,
Offering fresher courses toward the unknown border.

One by two, and tens, by the hundreds,
Humans coming down with it,
And before long, there are thousands,
Many dead, and more dying;

****** countries are deflowered,
By the infected from abroad,
Showing no signs at the ports,
Only to manifest a few days after;

But why allow them in?
Coming from tainted lands,
They should remain in situ,
If they cared, any, about their countrymen.