a short piece of poem

Virus

by Jean Lee

Something that makes people keep alienating one another

Something that brings deafening silence and hatred to an enclosed area

Something that steals human kindness

Something that turns compassion into a bunch of trinket

Something that reaches and attaches to a cell faster than the enmity formed in mind

Something that fits random humans out there like a key slipping into a lock

Something that ignites flame of anger that feels stone cold of the heartless souls

Something that engulfs rational mind and warm smile at strangers possibly infected

Something that paints the town MAD

.

.

.

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Something that makes our fingers crossed all the time:

‘Please go away and fly out to the brightest planet, Venus. That’s where you might fit in rhyming with your own name.’