"JUST NUMBERS"

I’m just a number,

not a person,

at least according to them.

If I die as the only one,

then it doesn’t matter.

I’m just a dot in their statistics.

If it’s me and another,

it still doesn’t matter.

Two is still considered a few,

‘though it turns us blue.

If it’s me and some others?

Well, it depends.

We’ll probably get noticed in tens,

hundreds, thousands, and more,

before they realise the horror

and start taking it seriously

and then call out for an emergency.

Better late than never?

Maybe.

At least it’s not their duty

to inform our grieving families

or friends who can only pray.

They can always talk to the press, the media,

saying that they’re sorry.

Once again,

I’m just a number,

a small evidence of inevitable misfortunes.

They can say it’s only one,

until the same happens to them,

way beyond their expectations,

crushing their confidence.

They can say it’s only me,

someone they don’t know,

until they suffer the same agony,

the pain, the stigma, the scrutiny,

thanks to Covid-19.

They’re worried about

not being able to get out

and do whatever the hell they like...

...until they also become numbers,

just like me,

adding more dots to the statistics,

making the frontline warriors feel sick.

Even the most careful become the company

of this mass-made misery.

Congratulations.

Now we have more numbers

to represent humans

infected – perhaps once again – by the same virus.

R.