The cold weather is coming
we’re locked in our houses
my brain no longer works
as it should – stuck
a needle on a record
skipping ‘round and ‘round
the same day repeated
Be creative, that will help pass the time
be disciplined, use the time wisely
but how can I when everything is
broken and dying?
The world is faded, grey
an old picture, a flashback
in a movie. Desaturated
technicolour of not seeing friends
lacking human touch, dulled lust
all that remains is blunt hunger
ever present and never satiated.
Captures the sadness of the current situation poignantly, Fleur.