Category Archives: Poetry by David E. Booker

COVET-19 Blues

The feeling that you get,

When someone you know is let

In line in front of you.

You are not a high risk dame

Or a gunsel of the same,

But it is a crime and shame, true.

You want to get the stick,

Feel the vaccine do its trick

And tell the virus, “Screw you.”

You’ve waited patiently,

A patient you don’t want to be —

It is worse than the flu.

Then this feeling you get — mean,

Some call it COVET-19,

Because a friend beat you through.

Hey, we’re of the same young age.

We ain’t old enough to be a sage—

So screw you, too.

You say it when no one’s there.

It’s a feeling that you dare not share,

This COVET-19 Blues.

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