'They exist in our midst, keep our cities going, yet are invisible.'
'Hunger, fatigue, thirst. Which one will get me first?'
'The future once again, isn’t ours to see.'
A poem about the various kinds of lives in a city that can be affected by the coronavirus.
I am searching for faith. I think it has drained away. Left quietly.
The mental burden as well as uncertainty about future running inside the head of a normal 19-year-old.