A poem about covid 19 (ii)

The empty shelves almost resemble
A hollowed carcass
They swarm like antibodies around a wound

The time spent searching
Searching for something to quench their thirst
Something their dirty talons can grab

Greed within fear
Fear within greed

Suddenly they're empty again
Time is thick, putrid, stagnant
The weight of the present on uncertain shoulders
Waiting eagerly to be filled again

Is this how it begins?
Is this how it ends?

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