i sit with weight

heavy upon my chest

in a day gone

pretty shitty

and i recall, 

all the others, the days

on end at times

holidays, birthdays


the usual fair

of emotional events

and crises, right?

no doubt, i sit 

with it all,

A gall of rage 

swarms in

as I cower to the floor

feeling irrelevant 

and unsure

right now, i suppose 

i could count my blessings

but that would ruin the 


i’d rather sit and

measure the weight 

of this iron ball 

bearing down 

on my soul,

masked in an anger

from this,

holiday pandemic hell

the grief, the surge

of this pan-continental 


a deep despair 

unable to let up, or ease

this virus, this crises

this global affair,

seems to be mutating 

every damn where.

©Jay Mora-Shihadeh

Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash

#Poet #Poetry #Freeverse #Grief #Mourning

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