“a balancing act”

she has been tip-toeing
through a magical garden
of her innocence and imagination,
oblivious to her surroundings

all around her, sorrow persisted tirelessly   
only a few had the luxury to live in her bubble
everyone was facing a fatal struggle
she stayed put in her safe world

then came the word
that she had to grow up

she thus met life’s reality
and began to dwell in agony
anguish turned into a steady companion
the entire globe was fighting for a breath

the vile hands of death suffocated the ordinary
those who reigned still luxuriated in good health and joy
their ploys poured down on the common folk as acid rain,
and boasted about their power to inject grief-laden miseries 

countless souls were drowning in pain
while some people took delight in opulence,
their future intact – with not a single worry,
others faced a violent end, day after day

those heedless of the real danger of the times
complained, for they had to remain self-confined
sensible rulers were scarce across the globe

to act promptly in the face of threats to health

facts about the dead and the dying
failed to have the human race unite
under their clueless leaders, masses opted to ignore
the necessity to keep the continental divide

as days grew old and nights signaled despair
medical staff everywhere
endangered their lives with no fear
even then when essential supplies were bare

for the survivors on Earth
to breathe anew for another day
emerged as an erratic gift from the grim reaper,
one that too many could not spare 

*This poem was published in Corona . . . Social Distancing, an international anthology made available to the field of literature by Inner Child Press International on May 5, 2020.

1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

One response to ““a balancing act”

  1. Snapshot of a average day in ameriKKKa and on a lesser scale the globe. On the money with the ” Tale of Two Cities ” picture, out of sight out of mind, ain’t my problem say’s the filthy rich ” Get yours i gotz mine. They don’t even say ” Let them eat cake ” Sound dipliction of life as we know it now in real time. Thank you Hulya you didn’t exactly make me wanna dance. That’s exactly the point. Fitting for a New Orleans Dixie blues funeral march in shuffle step. That’s about it for the dance. I can in my musical brain hear the sad refrain.

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