The Year is 2020
The year is 2020.
The weather is nicer, less people wearing masks.
Meanwhile I lay on the gurney, an oxygen mask pressed against my face.
My lungs full of COVID, I can't take a deep breath.
Please don't let me die today.
The year is 2020.
The weather is nicer, more people enjoying fresh air.
I lay on the ground, an officer's boot pressed against my neck.
My lungs full of fear, I can't take a deep breath.
Please don't let me die today.
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