My Prayer Wheel Has the Blues

It's getting late-time to leave for work, where we've lost our first to the red Wuhan curse. I'll be strolling the halls with his freshly minted ghost. Hopefully it won't loathe me, I pray it leaves me alone- Everyone's masked and macabre tinged. Management is working remotely from home but giving us free soda and chips. With a side of ham and corona on rye all this for risking our insignificant lives- I'm starting to make more mistakes. Taking days off for the most trivial things. I'm getting old and soft-I'm suffocating. Every day is just another bluish Monday. but we plow on-there's loved ones to feed... My psyche is quickly thinning. The mind swirling like a 70's mood ring. With pinches of low-grade hashish. My faith sure could use a good cleaning,,, to rid its prayer wheel of debris, so, it can start spinning freely again. I'm already beat and have a headache, lunchtime is still two and a half hours away.