Contagion Spread Courtesy Giphy.com and Wolfram Research

Contagion

Contagion is raging and nobody knows.

Where it comes from and where it goes.

Contagion appears out of the blue,

contagion loves to attack both me and you.

"Don't worry, in summer, away it goes."

The king announces without any clothes.

You can't stop contagion from doing its work,

anyone who believes this may just be a jerk.

Contagion runs through quickly killing the weak.

Struggling to save them, medicine on the brink.

Slowing contagion's progress seems a great plan,

quarantining wreaks economic havoc on the land.

Of course, letting contagion run does the same,

but of shorter duration in the natural culling game.

Where predators like contagion take the weak,

ensuring that the gene pool maintains its peak.

For when the strongest truly survive,

everyone in the population benefits alive.

Medicine works hard to keep the weak from dying,

suffering may tell you they are better off going.

It's a hard thing for many to lose family members,

but we all die anyway, if cremated, become just embers.

The survivors of contagion are stronger for its passing,

whole world moves forward into the future everlasting.

Copyright 2020 © Ronald W. Hull 

3/19/20

You can view and print this poem at my website here.