Last Poet

My good brother
 It's time to talk to the people
 It's a war going on outside they got us isolated
 But it's time to wake up, no more hibernatin'
 Hyperbolic time chamber before quarantine
 It was all a dream, that's a horror scene
 Wake up in a mask, time moving real slow
 Everything was fast, praying that my bills froze
 Somethin' 'bout the heat up, tryna clean the street up
 Lot of time on my hands, bro, pull a beat up
 Supermarket lines, we could meet up
 Freedom in this food, closing up schools, history repeat us
 Days gettin' longer, nights gettin' colder
 World still spinnin' as the kids get older
 Momma love to say, "Everything will be fine"
 So I read books, write poetry, try to ease my mind
 Before bloodclaat noon