In My Bubble
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In my bubble, I'm deprived of human touch,
unable to express my love or hold hands.
I can no longer hug those I love so much;
and I only hope my grandson understands.
I'm in isolation; I've nowhere to go;
when asked how I am: I answer, I don't know.
I am feeling abandoned and all alone;
and sometimes cry talking to friends on the phone.
From my balcony, I watched the city die,
its parking lots, empty as cemeteries.
And when demand for masks overwhelmed supply,
folks started treating friends as adversaries.
The hearts of some partiers hardened over time;
they stopped wearing masks, although it was a crime.
But today's news says vaccines are on the way;
and so, I wrote a poem to mark this day!
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2020
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