Title: Our masquerade with the plague

Our masquerade with the plague,

Has beaks,

Dancing six feet away,

Not to tread on someone’s day.

Kisses are now the devils PAYG (Pay As You Go).

Futuristic I guess,

But he still reaps what he sows.

Welcoming death by cake,

For we have many tiers of it.

Layered and frosted with the cold.

We’re all dancing to a frozen song,

Let it go,

But listen for what goes on.

All the achoos and the bless yous,

And the thank yous for the tissues.

The virtues for the curfews,

And the subdues going cuckoos.

And the confused feeling defused,

Being unused socially bemused.

Our party is full of malarkey,

We’ve been set up to fall.

However the clock has stroke 12,

At our bleak beaking ball.

Time to go home,

Time to tell your kids a tale,

A brothers Grimm,

One with death and prevail.