A Solitary Crush
In the morning's early light, shadows stretching tight,
A lone Chinese man sits, a figure of the night.
Surrounded by brick walls and might,
His head bowed in isolation, out of sight.
The pandemic's grip, cold and unseen,
Has changed the world, wiped it clean.
He sits alone on the industrial scene,
In the grip of a virus, cruel and mean.
The city's heartbeat now silent, a ghostly hush,
His world reduced to a solitary crush.
The platform cold, the air unmoving, a lonesome brush,
In this new reality, life's colors turn to mush.
Behind him, brick walls stand tall,
A stark reminder of humanity's fall.
His posture speaks of a world so small,
In the face of a crisis that's touched us all.
