Will I Survive? Poem by Mark Heathcote

We see the figures, daily-growing
And read it all till we're almost numb,
Something's occurred - it's all unfolding,
Everyone's asking, what more shall come.

Slowly everywhere they're masking,
People are panic buying their food.
What more, can be-done - all are-asking?
"Now we‘ve seen, pestilence fire flood."

… Fear is visible in all our shops,
Angry customers, some are swearing,
Numbers they grow into irate-mobs,
The whole-situation is draining.

Yet a thought "will I survive" pervades
Like a leashed-dog wrapped around your leg,
Barking as you walk-through the stockades
Doubting Jesus saves—can resurrect.