We rarely speak of the elephant in the room
And when we do, we may tell a morbid joke or two
The crowd laughs, to stifle the terror of their doom
All ignoring the tension which diligently stews

Even when fear latches us in its vice-like grip, blood running cold
Hubris doesn’t allow us to perceive it as a real, tangible threat
We’re Untouchable, Invincible, Invulnerable; or so we’re told
We abandon caution, which fear gifts us, and do things we’ll later regret

Big enough to keep us locked in our rooms, staring outside; intangible and vague
Yet close enough to see fallen people; relatives and friends; utterly terrifying and ominous
None of us wish to be consumed by an ever-worsening plague
Who knew living through history could be so horrendous?