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Apr 2020
With the grunts and groans of a wakening morn,
A small ball of resentment, fire and scorn,
There are heavy bags haunting your face,
Time goes by on a clock but there is no race.

Days and moments mesh together,
For the dumb, oblivious, ignorant and clever,
Nothing is separate one by one,
Awaken, eat, sleep, done.

The ignorant march out in hordes and laugh,
At the cautious hidden behind masks and glass,
As the docile watch from somewhere in the middle,
Eat, work, sleep little.

Remembrance of the workers clad in cloth,
Their work deemed essential until very last cough,
Mindless sit on stones along the beach,
Whilst the sun cooks their skin, face and feet.

"I'll be ****** if I'm staying in!" someone shouts,
A reckless, stupid, ignorant lout,
Struts into the shop and buys a lazy spa,
Oh how productive, thoughtful and intelligent you are.

Then the workers travel home by train, car or bus,
Get through their front door and take their shoes off with a huff,
Sigh because tomorrow is yet another day,
Trying to persuade morons to simply stay away.
Rhiannon
Written by
Rhiannon  United Kingdom
(United Kingdom)   
214
 
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