Isolation…
I’m on lockdown,
under house arrest.
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Self imposed of course,
for a darn good reason,
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One you may already know,
I’ve mentioned it before.
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My little peculiarity.
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Not that one!
Stop sniggering.
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The other one.
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I’m scared of people,
they make me feel anxious.
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Oh….
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and there’s some virus about,
but let’s brush over that,
wash our hands,
disinfect the couch,
settle back down,
and focus on me.
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That’s what we do these days,
or so it appears.
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Me, me, me, me, me.
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Anyway…
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I’m not leaving my home,
but all will be fine.
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I’ve prepared for my confinement,
through detailed planning,
leaving no stone left unturned.
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The fridge is well stocked,
with essential prison food.
Plenty of Scotch Eggs,
and Cadbury’s Twirls.
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I won’t get bored,
there’s lots I can do.
I can talk do myself,
spend more time on the loo.
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I might get married,
to my favourite chair.
We’ve been living in sin,
but I know it wants more.
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In a few weeks from now,
I’ll peek out my door.
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A few seconds is all I’ll need,
to see nothing’s changed.
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Then I’ll retreat back inside,
to the safety of my lair.
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Just a couple of extra days,
and then a few months more.
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