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15 days to flatten the curve.
30 days to flatten the curve.
Three Months to flatten the curve.
Six months to flatten the curve.
Here we sit. 244 days we’ve been bending the curve.
Wondering, how many more days must we serve.
We’re all too aware of the lives this virus has taken,
We pray for their families that are surely shaken.
But what of the other tragedies that have been forsaken?
The victims of the silence, of the solitude,
Who have stories we must not exclude,
Stories that extend to this very room.
I think of the many who experienced isolation,
Only to see it devolve to desolation,
For it to sadly end with self-destruction,
all from this lonely instruction.
I think of all of those who have been abused
By themselves or by another,
By a bottle, by a needle, by a lover.
I think of my little nephew Easton,
Much too young to think with reason,
Looking at the world with sad confusion.
As he plays at home season to season.
I think of the many loved ones improperly buried,
The many couples unsatisfactorily married,
I look back on high school with much gratitude,
As my sister’s time there will soon conclude,
Robbed of experiences we all viewed.
It is impossible to fully understand all we’ve lost,
When we think of the total cost.
It is hard not to despair,
With an ever-present depression in the air.
And yet in this room tonight, I see hope,
In leaning on each other, we just might cope,
And so a year from now, without this senior dope,
when you give thanks to your thoughts,
and more importantly those who thought with you.
Take with you a solemn vow of gratitude.
And always remember the power of your attitude.
Malcomb Haming is a McConnell Scholar in the class of 2021. He is studying political science and history at the University of Louisville.