I stutter and stammer
Straddling across the mini bridge
That keeps me away from the contagious world.
Gazing from the broken window of hope,
Trying to find the lock that forces me indoors.
Mind you Mr Corona is still searching for me.
The sun sets with my dreams of ever going to the park again.
Locked down indoors, tied to my bed.
Sleep-ins and no sleepovers.
Strutting from pot to couch.
But nothing beats being part of
Cyril’s Stay-At-Home Crusaders!
The windows are keeping my vision closer to the park.
How I miss my hippy happy jolly swings and slides with my buddies.
The feel of open air, so wild in summer afternoons.
It’s been a long run,
From braai parties in the park to watching the slides rot
From a broken window of hope,
With the face of mope! With a heap of rules.
And lockdown dared me to come out, outside the streets.