Saturday 7 November 2020

Lockdown 2020 winter edition

2020 we are always going to remember, and not for Guy Fawkes on the 5th November, 
For there was no gunpowder, treason or plot, 
2020 we want it gone and forgot, 
Condensation drips down windows condemnation like damp fungus lingers, 
Like how loneliness and isolation grip with strong and bony fingers, 
Give us our friends and family, lovers to hold, 
Whilst we hope and pray every sniffle's just a cold, 
Like listening in a storm to Pavarotti singing Nessan Dorma, 
We're all rising and falling in our privately collective trauma, 
We filled out name and number for track and trace, 
Wearing knicker-esque masks that blanket the face, 
Washing our hands over and over like Macbeth in that play, 
Scrub hard enough and maybe we can return to normal one day, 
Stay at home they say and you won't put a foot wrong, 
Take care of yourselves and most importantly keep strong, 








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