I hope to live a few more years
and find a way to get more healthy.
I don't regret decades of beers,
but if death comes, I hope it's stealthy.
I have survived a year of doom,
with cancer, plague, and long work days.
And now I pick an FC Loom,
as evening sets, and vent malaise.
For though our woes seem oversized,
and future questions unsurmised,
I'm calmer, Jack, I got my own;
I rolled my sleeve and got me Pfized.
In six months' time we all will hug,
and kiss and lick (and so much more…)
Until there comes another bug,
And we mask up and go to war.
I wish the future generations
Will learn from our stupid slips.
Fly less, walk more, consume more local,
and god forbid, no cruising ships!
So wait a bit and don't take shortcuts!
Get vacced,
not vexed,
and wax poetic.
This too, I promise you, shall pass!
Lest masks become the new aesthetic…