Pedantic Paranoia

This space is infected

With the germs of its inhabitants

They make noises not heard in civilised conversation,

Just a melee of evil sounds,

Cough, cough, wipe, recover.

The world looks bigger now

Because my head is in the mud and grime,

Every breath I take seems to last an age

And all the air I draw seems to weaken me further

Cough, cough, wipe, recover.

All the disease seems to want is me,

I cannot explain how it feels

I can see it as it circulates the unsuspecting trench

No one else can, just me,

Not every gift is a blessing

Cough, cough, wipe, recover.

The mountains of pollution distract you from your daily tasks

They send you to an unknown plain,

Its as though they have their own mind and own thoughts

As if they are bred for one purpose.

Cough, cough, wipe, recover.

Further infections roam freely,

Unattended and untamed

Roaming with no borders or boundaries

But no one person is to be blamed,

Cough, cough, wipe, recover.