Words and the world passing by; how it sings to me; how I clamour back.
Posted on June 28, 2020 by mabhsavage
I go to bed in daytime now
The night is so passé
The songbirds are my lullaby
The sunrise lights my way
To sleep, perchance to dream, I hope
Though not of recent times
Of angst and shopping trips gone mad
Of social distance lines
Or folks who fight ‘gainst masks
Like they’re a suffocating fiend
Who push in front in Asda
Where you just were gently leaned
Who ball you out for chatting
And the reasonable things you did
While bubbled with their mum, their gran
Their cousins and their kids.
Slag off the righteous protestors,
Fighting hard for their rights
But turn the other cheek to crowds
On beaches, covered in shite.
Who see Cummings and goings
As a necessary risk
While littering the beauty spots
On walks deemed less than brisk
Beating up poor families
In parks and woods all over
But piling in the car to head
Down south and ruin Dover.
I wish I wasn’t human
When I read this poem back
And this is just a snippet
Of the rubbish, of the flack;
So I sleep in the daytime now
I drink the night away
And pray to passing birds
We’ll surely find
Another way.
Category: health, mental health, poetry, PoliticsTags: british beaches, Coronavirus, covid-19, Dominic Cummings, dreams, insomnia, lockdown, poem, poems, Poet, poetry, poets, second wave, sleep, social distancing, stay home stay safe