He woke up,
Faintly remembering a pleasant dream,
But as he got out of bed,
He already felt tired,
Worn out.
Already felt like he was on the back foot,
Like his very essence was draining away.
Gone was the birdsong,
Found whispering in the breeze...
Lockdown was over.
It was back to the good old days,
Traffic jams and cranky faces,
Fake hugs,
Folk asking how you are with waiting for an answer,
Back to empty words and self importance,
Even the sun looked forlorn and subdued.
He pondered just how close we all came
To emerging into a gentler, friendlier world,
How close we came to having the adults,
who refuse to answer questions,
run for the hills.
Instead human nature settled back in,
with everyone kneeling in front of billboards with relish,
Glorifying and praising cheap labour
And useless items
Parading them in front of random
Unknown faces
In an empty quest to gather 'likes.'
He brushed his teeth.
By Mikael.
The Bugle 