Pale primrose, Frühlingsgold, sweet scented May,
but such beauty stained by our frustration
bird song sounding, green and iris coloured day,
ruined by useless misinformation:
freedom’s dead, here’s the codification
of rules based on what statisticians say.
Look, here’s lovely random probability distribution,
pale primrose, Frühlingsgold, sweet scented May,
ceanothuses, peonies’, bright display
stochastic plantings add beautification
to alliums amongst the herbaceous disarray.
But such beauty stained by our frustration,
at the exponential multiplication
of potential harm and death. Who are they,
to dictate, or fill with irritation
bird song sounding, green and iris coloured day
after sky blue day, turning each one grey?
Who are they to enforce isolation,
our Liberté and now Fraternité
ruined by useless misinformation,
ruined by deliberate disinformation,
ruined by arrogance which won’t betray
its ideological foundation?
Yet perhaps, they are done, I can sense the decay,
sweet scented.
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