My Facemask Has Saved Me. Poem by Barack Austine

We used to see them worn by surgeons in an operating theatre,
But Covid-19 has sent them to the streets,
So that even those who can't spell the word 'laboratory' can use them.
At the onset, I seriously loathed them,
They seem to be at war with my rejuvenating deep breaths,
But now I have learned better,
I don't have to justify my sneering to a random and unsolicited interviewer with my mask on.
Will they be patient enough to listen if I start telling it?
I don't need to explain why my lips are competing with clay soil in cracks with my mask on.
Will they be sensitive enough to realize I'm famishing and in néed of a reasonable portion of well-cooked food served generously?
With my mask on, I don't need to explain why I'm in a spot of bother,
Will they understand that I am falling back with accommodation expenses for the third consecutive month?
With my face well masked,
I can endure the cracks,
Defy the pains stacked,
And Burst into a peal of noiseless laughter without the fear of being called crazy,
Indeed, my Facemask has saved me.