deepundergroundpoetry.com

Short Supply

Not enough to go around
Necessities sold by the pound
Certain foods in short supply
Snatched from the shelves, why even try?

The virus is the cause to horde
Paper products, praise the Lord!
He might grant some sweet relief
And end this journey into grief

Until then madness reigns supreme
And life becomes a fever dream
Or nightmare as the case may be
Not subject to a lost soul's plea.
crowfly
Written by crowfly
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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