White *****, red spikes,
flight stalled, death blight,
tight walls, bed bites,
night falls, headlights
burn in my brain
I learn from the pain
and my burdensome shame
that this quarantine game
feels horribly same
to life in my lane.

Everyone wears masks
everything is sanitized
I have one simple task
and it’s my ****** demise
while the planet cries
I stand aside
infantilized.

I hide in my holler
counting my dollars
counting on scholars
to make me taller
but for each one that builds me up
there are three to cut me down
so I’ll drink from their cup
and hand them their crown.

If I go outside I’m browbeaten
but I feel boxed in
from the callous crowds’ treatment
pulling my **** skin
promising it’s not spin
until their battlebot wins
then their cattle **** grin
spreads like coronavirus kin.

So I sit here homicidal
inside my domicile
thinking God is vile
for this awful trial
that some call a pandemic
but it seems like my existence
where I look for a grand medic
but only find social distance.