A poem about self-healing

These concrete streets

Beneath my feet

Is where I eat and breathe,

And sleep at night.

Tucked in tight

Beneath the street lights,

In these city blocks

Of culture shock.

A result of my faults,

From the choices I made.

Got burned by the fire,

And my life went sour,

On a downward spiral.

Now I must pay,

For I learned the hard way.

This place of disgrace

Is outrageously dangerous,

Everything but safe.

The domain of inhumane,

In the shady sides

Of crazy and insane.

Drug deals and drive bys,

Folks strive to get high,

Some survive, others die,

Every day is a homicide.

Just the other day

I was mugged by a thug,

Held a gun to my head,

Ten seconds of dread,

And I thought I was dead.

Troubles on the horizon,

Unsurprisingly arising,

I'm always in fear,

Every day of the year

Knowing it's near.

These concrete streets

Beneath my feet,

Is where crime is prime

And the heat gets deep.

Where lives overturn

And bridges burn.

Where tables turn

And lessons are learned.

Where the yellow tape sets you straight!

Civilization is bracing for a situation they’re facing. This ceaseless disease has impacted billions of men, women and children - in every nation, city and town under the sun, one by one. It’s whirling through the atmosphere without a sound, circling around the hemispheres. The unforseen with no vaccine comes swarming in without a warning - ready to strike and sicken its victims internally. The only remedy to fight this enemy is go inside and stay away from everything! Do your best in this midst of distress until this infested mess comes to rest. Take advantage of this break from reality to spend quality time with loved ones and family. Find ways to entertain your brain and refrain yourself from going insane. The ideal place is called destination isolation, a safe location away from the whole population, the only vacation you’ll be taking and you won’t need an invitation.