To write bad poetry this month no extraneous commitments dictated
To grow a beard all week no vain pretense required
To ring my mum to-night no after-work drinks mandated
To sleep in an hour no daily commute demanded
To contemplate a minute no ‘time wasting’ reprimanded
To breathe just one second no productivity quota commanded
Always look to the upside - If it wasn't for this pandemic I'd probaly never have started writing poetry. Good news for me, maybe not so much for you poor reader!