The Teenager's Talk Poem by Somali Mukherjee

Will it kill us all, Mum?
You say, one gets the sum
Of one's deeds---all of them;
Now it doesn't seem the same.
I've just stepped at thirteen;
Won't I too be spared by COVID-19?
I wish to meet more people;
I wish to soar on the ripple
Of my fantastic land,
Holding your and Dad's hand.
Corpses on corpses are getting piled;
I don't want to be exiled,
Mum, don't want to be exiled.
You say, I'll be a big man,
An honorable and pure man;
I need to grow up
With your club.
Won't this virus let me go?
Can't I fulfill my dreams and grow?
Please, don't you cry, Mum;
I'm ready to get my sum.