Mutants. A poem by George Potter

I thought Coronavirus caused a failure of the lung
(Or so the experts told us, though in bats begun)
But now it has mutated, as some, unbelievably, pursue
A brainless selfish pattern, which the empty shelves, prove true.

In olden days the pirates, chased their love of gold,
Sailing off to pillage, the richer lands of old,
But now it is just pasta, with toilet rolls to boot
Which gauge the pirates’ grey cells, in their choice of loot.

Perhaps in times to come, when these storms subside,
These stupid selfish people, will themselves, deride,
As their weaker neighbours, who, remaining proud,
Lost their chance of livelihood, behind this manic crowd.

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