Clock strikes ten it's a Saturday night, got money in my pocket and it feels alright...
The clock struck seven,
We know what we were given.
Homeward bound we were driven,
Protecting lives: we were striven!
Stay at home we were told,
To protect the old... as the rolls just sold.
But the food now moulds!
Panic bought!
Rolls you sought!
Full of fraught!
It's bought you nought!
For this is real life and not a fantasy,
A different life from plastic sea.
It's real; can't you see?
Will you change your mentality?
Clock strikes ten it's a saturday night,
No money in my pocket and it's not alright.
Just staying home, accept my fate,
Not going out before it's too late.
YOU ARE READING
Nightfall - A lifetime in self isolation
PoetryHave you ever felt alone? Nightfall takes the ever darkening thoughts of a lonely student trapped in a warring community and turns them into poetry. My thoughts laid out for you.
