Days are getting longer, patience growing thin.
Optimism’s waning and confusion’s setting in.
The world is topsy-turvy, at times looking gray.
The blues are getting deeper, shaded every day.
A pandemic is upon us, direction is unsure.
We sit on pins and needles bleeding for a cure.
We’ve masks in the market, sanitizers in the car.
Gas at least is cheap. But I’m afraid to go too far.
What will be the normal when odd times are behind?
Will we be more friendly or simply more unkind?
I’d like to be a rebel and make up my own laws.
But we’re all in this together, routines now on pause.
With leadership sorely lacking and conspiracies on the news,
our lives are changed forever regardless of our views.
With distance we will live for the future that is seen.
But tomorrows will arise closing gaps between.
We humans are survivors, our brains lead the way.
But time will write our story and we’ve little say.
With the pages that we’ve bound created from within.
Our chapter, long or short, will tell us if we win.
I think today’s Saturday but I’m not sure.
It’s just another day waiting for a cure.
I tossed and turned all through the night.
I awoke to darkness but the sky was bright.
My input seems to be running out.
In silence I wish to scream and shout.
Coffee’s running low and milk’s getting old.
Veggies growing limp and bread’s growing mold.
The toilet paper’s still in good supply.
My hands scrubbed raw so I won’t die.
The day then turned the dullest of gray.
But it doesn’t really matter, cos in we’ll stay.
Plans for the future now put on hold.
So inside we’ll wait until we’re told.
I’ll make some calls to those I miss.
I’ll wake my sweetheart with a kiss.
While trying not to get the blues,
we’ll start our day with the news.
Breakfast we’ll share with lots of love.
And we’ll thank our lucky stars above.
We’ll visit the world on the screen.
We’ll watch the grass turning green.
We’ll happily spend time doing chores,
hoping for a chance to get outdoors.
I simply can’t bear another TV show.
The cars got gas but there’s nowhere to go.
Perhaps we’ll walk, but not too far.
Or we’ll play some cards and guitar.
We’ll write a little and maybe draw.
I’ll tell her she’s the cutest I ever saw.
We’ll have our supper with a candle lit.
Then it’s off to bed to read for a bit.
We’ll reflect on these times we now live in.
Then dream of the next to soon begin;
when doors will open from our self-made tomb,
awakened all, to a new spring bloom.