Almost losing count, we’re now in the fourth week
‘tis a strange thing, not seeing others
and not even hearing them speak.
Grim-faced and sullen, the faces
of everybody around
Confinement puts them through their paces
Masks making their muffled sound.
Some speak of a war, a deathly catastrophe
yet all they know is peace and prosperity!
Real, brutal, gruesome war is different while alike
But I have no authority nor experience
To write of war perils or their pertinence
All I can do is highlight the impact on our psyche.
It is a different kind of war, bloody in its own right
One not given up, not without a fight
One fought within the very depths of ourselves
while people empty supermarket shelves.
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