Sam J. Ssemaganda
If I never hear from my Italian friend again,
I’ll know it’s you
Together with your new girlfriend, COVID-19
I hope this finds you in time
You’re quite busy lately, no time
The speed at which you run out of us
What’s with the rush?
The dead silence, ghost towns in Italy
Everyone is gone, most gone forever
The cries in USA, UK, Africa, China, Iran
Is that music for your morning run?
The tears and misery in Spain
What’s your gain in our pain?
I’m talking to you, life
I heard a man dying, begging you;
“Please spare my kids and wife”
But who pissed you off in China?
Was it really in China?
My house is now an open prison
Every morning I open the door
But nowhere to go
I know I have taken you for granted;
We’ve only cared about material trumpet
Treated fellow humans like trash
Got drunk on arrogance; life with a plash
Now here we’re stuck with all our cash
But death won’t stop dragging us onto its bus
Please, let’s talk;
I think you’ve had enough fun
I know you want to run
But let’s walk
And now that you’ve ignored my calls
I hope you read this when you find a minute
I hope it won’t be too late!
Sam J. Ssemaganda is Ugandan author and media consultant