A poem by Beverly Stock.
© Eti Swinford | Dreamstime.com
Do you fear this mask of gold,
My wheezing breath, my eyes so cold?
Only if you’re strong and wise,
Will I offer a compromise?
I have the upper hand, you know
If you’re taking care, you’re very slow.
Dim witted too. Must I ask?
Why you simply won’t wear a mask?
But you are not my enemy,
Your humanity you give to me.
You and your wife and family,
Share my contagion with regularity.
You're easy prey, you doubting soul,
Brainless mass without a goal,
Nevermind because you see,
Inside of you, I’ll soon be.