The long day is longer still
The life at home
Without a world outside
Stretches on forever
Boredom and malaise
Are the daily music of the inner struggle
Longing is lost in the impossibility of its realization
And hope is a name for a yesterday that never was
I go on as I go on as I go on as I go on
And all seems to say
That there is no way
To return the normal everyday simple pleasure
Of thoughtless happiness
This is not the greatest time to be alive
And I am an old man who may be in the grave
Before it is all over.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Each of us will ever have one shot at life in the form that we are in and therefore celebrate that unique life until the last microsecond. I think if you just follow the science of Covid it will come to pass. Considering its a global problem i would bot attempt to carry the burden alone. Blah blah blah. If thats bot working let me try another tack. We want a poem on " the good side of Covid l" until its over. Its there. Fing it.