Image By: Joshuamiranda / Pixabay

Like a rabbit burrowed in a hole

I peer out my window with beady eyes

I can no longer tell the time

I can only see what I love and shriek inside

My greens are off limits, as desolation rules the streets

Every waking second of mine is spent 

Looking at a screen

Like lighthouses in a tempest, a few messages gleam

But with every message received, faces fade away

I wish the screens would part and I could see them all again

Not as bubbles of text but as real people I could cherish

The numbers keep rising, the dead keep on piling

For every show of humanity, there arises a tale of monstrosity 

As the brain dead feed on bantha fodder

I feel such rage, such seething rage

I fear my words can’t capture it all

Maybe my words don’t even reach tone deaf ears

Maybe they’re just like another brick in the wall

Alas, my walls are all I’ve got with me 

I’ve written about them and spoken to them

Fought with them and both won and lost 

This lockdown will not last forever

This lockdown will certainly end

But one thing is for certain

Nothing will ever be the same.

Almanac is our home for satire, sex, creative writing and much more. Satirical articles are intended as such.

Comments powered by Disqus

Please note All comments are eligible for publication in The Daily Cardinal.