By Aqueila M. Lewis-Ross
The City that nevers sleeps is silent
Forced to quarantine like everyone else
No wonder the Mayor complains
Dollars were always made here
But now she sleeps
It's hot as hell and hades is awakened
The homeless made visible
Letting flesh burn while laying on dirty streets
We rush to the nearest air conditioned stores
hoping to be the first to let masked skin get soothed.
We travelers migrated here
After being pushed out
Not sure if disease of the mind or body is to blame.
War has been here all along.
It slowly crept in
And the rest of the world is now up to speed.
But in our hearts we hold on to hope
Sometimes pushing is needed
So greatness can have a seat on the throne!
April 28, 2020