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by Kate Ashforth 11 months ago in social commentary
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A familiar feeling

Third floor up

In my brick palace

I'm jailed inside these walls

No freedom to be spoken

Looking out at the squall

Lashed by a thousand water bullets

The sky is grey again

Do I reach for the warmth of wine?

Or escape in my imaginary plane?

Time is slowly fracturing

Each day is on repeat

I should shower to re-set

My appearance no longer flattering

Lack of societal care

Money is disappearing

Working is not over-rated

It's practise- life-affirming

The chill is ever-creeping

The wait consumes our soul

The virus is our deity

The keeper of us all.

social commentary

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Kate Ashforth

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