The Sickness

The sickness came upon us; it spread by air on earth.

The sacrifice was young and old, but not as young as birth.

The whining was like candy, and fingers pointed blame.

The business hired talking points who held no one to shame.

No need to speak to loudly, no emotions fill that need.

Someone has got to profit, even if you call it Greed.

So much more that we can say, maybe not bad as war?

But dead is dead when all is said, even when we search for more.

Dennis Mantin

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