My hands have become chafed from washin’.
My 401(k) took a drubbin’.
Keep six feet away, out of caution.
I can’t even go out night-clubbin’.
I keep coughing into my elbow.
I don’t touch my face with my fingers.
The news each day brings a fresh hell, so
the fear of this virus still lingers.
The school where my children go closed down,
so now I must act as their teacher.
My favorite pub needs to be hosed down;
I’m day-drinking (there’s one good feature).
This quarantine’s a joyless caper;
it’s like Groundhog Day – time keeps looping.
I’m running low on toilet paper,
so that causes issues with pooping.
I’m working from home, on my laptop,
with conference calls via the Zoom app.
My sanity slips, with no backstop.
And now – time for my afternoon nap.
johnbranning.com 
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