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May 2020
Is it over, is it really now over,
Are we just dreaming or simply misled,
Can we resume the rest of our lives
Outside these four walls and the shade of our bed.

Can we now fill our lungs with fresh air
Breathing no longer through layers of cloth,
Or must we endure that little while longer
Protected indoors, cocooned like a moth.

Exhausted from watching show after show,
Tidying closets, climbing the walls,
Snacking in boredom, growing in girth,
Constantly texting, washing our smalls.

Hair growing longer, nails more like claws,
Roots ever greyer, solutions too few,
Pampered and spoiled, lost in a haze
Reliant on others, but whoever knew.

So tell us it's over, we pray and beseech,
Bring back the life we knew and adore,
Life's little pleasures all gone in a flash,
Staying cooped up is now such a chore.
Robert Ippaso
Written by
Robert Ippaso  M/Naples, Florida
(M/Naples, Florida)   
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