Gone With The Virus Poem by Ruta Mohapatra

All our ways of life
Our meetings and our greetings
Friendly hugs and kisses
Rushing around in buses

The season of joy is here
In trees the blossoms appear
But confined to our homes
We live in unknown fear

Downwards go all graphs
Save the ticking Worldometer
It rises and rises higher
The summit is nowhere near

God knows what is in store
As we move towards the future
Which never looked so bleak
As far as I can remember

Is hope round the corner?