Emma Hoff, 8Bronx, NY Mad World 2020 Emma Hoff, 8 Locked In your own head, In fear That the grass will Turn different The minute You open the Door. That Flickering lights And a cloak Will greet you And everything Will attack your mind At once When you see What’s happening To other people. ‘Children waiting for the day they feel good’ And nothing seems right As everyone Cries Stressed Scared Or alone, as if floating. ‘Their tears are filling up their glasses’ And no one Comes along to comfort them, Because no one Is there. Everyone is holed up in their homes Out of trouble. ‘And I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take. When people run in circles it’s a very, very, mad world.’ Emma’s poem was submitted to our Weekly Flash Contest #20: to write a poem inspired by a song. It refers to Mad World, originally written and performed by Tears for Fears (1983) and covered by many other artists since.
poetry
Coronavirus poem by Alisa Zou, 12
Alisa Zou, 12Concord, MA Coronavirus poem Alisa Zou, 12 Out there, Corona is probably having fun. But, We are struggling. Corona, Please stop attacking us. Look, I know what you are doing (For a virus), But This is a very Serious problem That I want you to Understand. Listen, We are Dying. Please go away. You are too strong to fight. Don’t make us stay six feet From each other For another second You know what I’m talking about, I know you do. Maybe you can spread in another world that’s made for You. This is a chance I made for you, Don’t make us go grab you By the heart. You won’t like it. Think about it, Okay? *** People! People! Corona’s Here! Keep clean! Is that clear? Wash your hands often! This is your land! Mask on! Around people you stand!
Hundreds at Least
I can’t breathe Cried the Black man on the street. A mantra of pain that we cannot seem to defeat. His Their suffering and his Their cries will not go underheard By the listeners who attempt to make the deaf hear this burden. It is an endless cycle of fighting for rights that the white man seems to recycle Not one, not two, but HUNDREDS at least, bleeding on these very streets. The blood will not wash clean the streets remain dirty and the lost souls and lives will haunt these roads to when their ends meet He has not been arrested She has not been arrested They have not been arrested Can you fear for your life when you wear a shirt that once you are home you can remove with a jerk. But your skin is your skin, Can you crawl out of your skin Can you escape something that you are born with? This is now that is then we changed Have you really changed. Black lives matter But not until they are gone NO. They matter now. They have always mattered. This is their identity, not their job. John, Have you taught your children How to stay calm when a man triple your age points a gun at your heart. Hands up don’t shoot please Stop resisting please officer! Stop fighting this! shots fired . . . Is it a crime, to be who you are? You are an officer but. Who protects the people from the law?
