Cadavers' Conundrum Poem by John Sensele

Cadavers in morgues pile up
Lips too weak can't lick a cup
Knees collapse
Times for action elapse

Cries of the poor ring shrill
Raucous rebuttals the rich thrill
Yesterday a baby Bathed in sewage
Today a lady ate a meal of soil in her village.

Rains storms stole roofs from mud walls
Strains stole sapience from catastrophe calls
Street kids at traffic lights scramble for alms
Street walkers in the shade defy confinement on infertile farms.

Hairdressers shut down their parlours
Welders for want of business discard welding colours
Families draw up a feeding rota
Survival of fittest now roves in my quarter.