On the bench, been benched,
Watching the game by itself play,
Yourself at home, at work in virtual play,
Engaged as though playing a video game,
In your house and home, under house arrest,
Witness to poignant images of people all masked.
In solitude, freely confined,
By the virus, pandemic, you cannot inhale,
Nor exhale at will in any place, regardless,
Well wrapped up with eyes only breathing,
Like a Talaban Mrs., her eyes for his eyes only,
This is no gimmick, the unjust reign of a pandemic.
The thought of life returning continues to scare us,
Top political dogs, hands from feet cannot tell,
My men with stethoscopes present more fear,
And the human race seems lost in disarray,
Desperations, depravation, bundled confinement,
Yet, the sun still shows with a broadened smile.
Yet Solitude can unearth much treasure,
Isolation compels our thoughts to reflect,
Give deep reverence, to things that really matter,
That only get much ear, in limited boundaries,
As we take a break, from chasing the wind,
To at least, be grateful to your maker for the wind in YOU.
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