Weep

In the middle of the night, when the moon is dark, and the clouds black.

In the middle of the night, when all the souls of America stare into the ceiling, the warm tears slowly crawl down their cheeks.

In the middle of their life, it is uncertain if there will be a tomorrow, because a sociopath stands before the cameras and rant.

We weep as a nation when our loved ones are taken away in the hearse without fanfare because there are so many that are dying.

I weep alone in my apartment because there is no one able to mourn the death of so many at one time in our history.

I weep because the war is in our midst, and the Doctors and Nurses are the first casualties in this war.

I weep because my tears cannot save lives.

My tears can not save those who die on a hospital bed in the corridor, with many besides them enclosed in plastic bags.

I weep because there are too many graves filled with someone’s loved one, and the count continues.

In the middle of the night, I weep alone because there are only memories of a time that my tears were joyful as the sound of the National Anthem was a song sung by all the nations.

Body Bags

There are body bags flowing; out of the back door of Brooklyn hospital in New York.

Body bags with someone loved ones
And I have no words as the count continues.

Do you know that the bodies will be taken away?
To be placed on a slab?

In America, there are thousands of body bags,
Bodies in the corridor of the hospitals.

It’s a war without the guns and bombs,
It’s a war on our fellow Americans.

It’s a war!
When will the body bags stop?

I’m not ready to be taken away in a Boddy bag,
And put in a refrigerated truck and carried away.

Are you?

In a war, there are always body bags,
In a war, people die alone.

I don’t want to die alone,
In a hospital corridor.