They say the skies are bluer
The clouds are pristine white
The air they say smells sweeter
And we witness a star spangled night
The birdsongs are more lovely
Peacocks dance in the street
Wild life ventures into cities
Their domesticated brethrens to greet
The trees it appears are taller
The grass on both sides green
The distant mountains are visible
The rivers are sparkling clean
Mother Earth they say is cleaning herself
They rejoice in her rejuvenated forms
The future they say will be beautiful
Different from all previous norms
I cannot imbibe their joyful vibes
Their hopes so gay and wild
Which mother i wonder cleans herself
With the blood of her dead child
(the idea of the earth rejuvenating during the pandemic at the cost of human lives never appealed to me)
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