Stranger Times

Hello,

You don’t know me.

We could get tea

And discuss the craziness of life.

It seems these days are so full of strife

That having a lax chat with the neighbors

Are among Hercules’s twelve labors.

We are connected more than ever online

But phone calls and café meetups cross the line.

Maybe it is the risk of being scammed or shot

That has social gatherings feeling like a lot.

Why reach out when you can reach for a bottle

And power through the burnout at full throttle?

I’m sorry; perhaps that’s a bit too dark.

Small talk used to be a walk in the park,

But now I’m not sure how I managed this long.

Everything I do is either right or wrong,

But the standard keeps changing

With reasons so wide-ranging

That even truth seems like fantasy.

I’m fine but really it’s agony

Trying to figure out what today will bring.

More shootings or a lawsuit on boneless wings?

The good ol’ days are days I never knew.

But what if all those claims are really true?

We just have to look passed the oppression

And defend the image with aggression.

Maybe then we can get back to living

Instead of focusing on existing..

What a can of worms, right?

Not what I planned to write.

Can we start over on a more positive note?

Would you rather be a frog in a bog or goat?

Sincerely, me