Parvovirus-P
Parvovirus-P wears a grin
Through every preventable sin.
His clipboard’s so bright,
His optimism’s a light
In the dark where the outbreaks begin.
He was assigned to a shelter campaign
Weeks after the outbreak had slain
The whole population.
His cheerful oration
Echoed through empty halls in vain.
He misfiled a vaccine batch shipment—
It vanished without any glint-ment
Of recovery found.
The forms shuffled around,
And the loss was his lifelong commitment.
He marched in a Wellness Parade
Days after the quarantine made
Every banner a lie,
Every float a goodbye,
And his smile was the sharpest blade.
He distributes brochures at desks
That are decommissioned—the grotesques
Of a helpdesk that died.
His cheerfulness applied
To the void. No one answers his checks.
He reads failure reports to the room
In rhyme, on awareness day’s gloom.
The statistics he cites
Through commemorative rites
Are a eulogy dressed as a bloom.
His bandages are worn “just in case”—
Commemorative wraps on each space
Of both arms, ever ready
For shots never steady,
And the prevention that time couldn’t chase.
He monitors expired posters for mold,
Checking emotional resonance—old
And untouched and unread,
The health tips long dead,
But the optimism? Never controlled.
He recites statistics on loss
To no one at all—at what cost?
The numbers still climb,
The cheerful pantomime
Keeps smiling through every exhaust.
The mascot with bandages tight,
Gave the shelter a terrible fright.
With a grin quite obscene,
He misfiled the vaccine,
While the cages went quiet for the night.
He marched in the Wellness Parade,
While the corpses were freshly unmade.
With optimism high,
He watched the stats die,
In a cheerful and gruesome charade.
His brochures are soggy and old,
With health tips that smell like the mold.
He waves at the graph,
With a hollow-eyed laugh,
While the preventable tragedy’s told.
So if cheerful mascots appear
In the wreckage of failures held dear,
That’s Parvovirus-P:
Where the grin’s a decree
That prevention was never quite here.