The Pandemic’s Toll

The Pandemic’s Toll

The masks came first, then the silence, then the math,
Counting beds and body bags down the hospital’s back path.
Hands that touched through glass and screen, missing what could have been,
Hearts aching in a quiet plea, yearning for the company.

Voices lost in muffled sound, funerals no one could attend,
Lives that ended with no goodbye, just a phone call at the end.
The world shrank to the size of rooms where families learned to pray
That the cough was just a cough, that tomorrow’d be okay.

It wasn’t. Not for everyone. Not for the nurse who worked till dawn,
Not for the father on the ventilator, not for the daughter left to mourn.
The pandemic didn’t ask permission, didn’t care about your plans,
Just took what it wanted and left the living with empty hands.