Poetry In My Dreams

Separated (A Covid Piece)

Here we all stand, looking out our windows.

All we have in times like these is our eyes.

We only have the world to stare at from afar.

Not to touch, smell, feel or hear ... just to see

Only ever witnessing silently

And even that view we see throw is limited,

Because all we really get to see is;

The walls that surround us, what ever bland colors they may be,

The small rooms we live in and could even travel across blind without a hitch for we now know them too well.

And finally the ever growing elephant in the room that shall never be discussed or even considered.

The DOOR,

It must never be acknowledged.

We are not allowed to leave our homes that now look like houses.

We are stuck here.