Am I one, one of the seventy-three?
Waiting by the phone ever so anxiously
Checking my temperature and my sense of taste
If I’m about to die I’d like to see my killer’s face
To check for empathy and some sense of shame
A realisation of the gravity of their selfish game
It seems highly unlikely that they lived alone
It could have been your lodger or you perhaps used their phone
Did anyone not realise there was a spreader in their midst
Maybe you lived with them or were someone that they kissed
You might well have taken their empty glass to the bar
Helping to spread that virus to people near and far
The exponential potential of your actions cannot be ignored
You need to ask yourself if it was a luxury we cannot afford
A text message arrives it’s from the States again
Telling us to obey the rules if we’ve half a brain
I still don’t yet know if I’m one of the seventy-three
Waiting all alone to gasp for air and die needlessly
Donald Keyman
