Tribute To Covid Poem by Conceptura 777

Stop all the cameras, take down the drones,
Put Boris in a care home with a juicy bone
Silence the sirens and with carnival drum
Bring out the coffin; our pandemic is done
Let aeroplanes circle cheering overhead
Scribbling on the sky 'Covid 19 is dead'
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves
Let the traffic policemen accept handshakes and hugs
Fear was their North, their South, their East and West
Their working week and their Sunday rest
Their noon, their midnight, their talk, their song
They thought Covid would last for ever: they were wrong
The masks are not wanted now: take off every one
Pack up the Guardian, BBC, Mail and Sun
Pour away the Lords sweep the Commons' dead wood
For nothing with them ever came to any good.