Poetry

I am here, one room does it all

By: Alfred Nicholson

On the second floor, look and see
room to the left there I am, 233.

Here I am I spend all of my day,
7 days a week eat, sleep or play.

The shadow of the virus I will not see.
A mask I will wear when it is necessary.

A voice I will here from time to time.
Your food is here, breakfast at nine.

My bed is my table and the food is there.
Next to the food ls my plastic silverware.

Perhaps one day the director will say,
“dinning room is open”, an eventful day.

Am I dreaming, is that what I really hear.
Does it mean, the virus we no longer fear.

Some will remember where they once sat.
A smile will show again as they will chat.

Categories: Poetry

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