Letter to Ms. H Chloro Queen

I say, my dear, dear dearest Ms. H. Chloro Queen,
Beware of that bad fellow Covid Doe.
He keeps dark company; his words bereft of harmony.
You see that guy Covid Doe, the progeny of globalist,
In his gambit do not enlist, all his promises are like mist.

Nobody, nobody his ID has found.
Who or what he is, a question profound?
His gift of lock downs only confounds.
Media fear, fake news numbers further compound.
How can sweet Ms. H. Chloro Queen survive?
After Covid Doe’s media, at her door they arrived.

The midnight oil burners say, mask do not work to task.
Covid Doe commands, no work nor services without your mask.
Despite the new study remarks, debunking this control by risks and credit scores.
The hegelian mind in its newfound power, basks in its toe step dance the more.
As the earth’s people look on askance, monitoring their predatory prance.


I say, my dear, dear dearest Ms. H. Chloro Queen,
Cross their line, ignore their control mime.
For many, you stand in power regardless of the hour.
Live your life!
Live your life!
Fly away from the frightened hive mind.
Shake off their oppressive grind.
Live your life! Live your life!! Live your life!!!
Hey. There is no romance in the jab sensation.
Toe tags are not listed, and why not, under medical predations.

My dear, dear dearest Ms. H. Chloro Queen, great work and passion.
Live your life, live your life free, this is the true mission.

My dear, dear dearest Ms. H. Chloro Queen, before you go
Your cousin Ivor met Tin, helped him, now he is in the gym.
Before this meeting, of his health, he said not a soft thing.
All his bills going ring, ring, cringing to see no bling.
My dear, dear dearest Ms. H. Chloro Queen says,
You know Truelove, I celebrated when after so many years, Ivor met Tin.
Now he is not so thin, and I delight to see him grin.
I am really glad that Ivor met Tin and this is a win.
Truelove replies, near the door, do not forget your gloves
Queen goodbyes, see you my poet love, I must fly above.