I wrote this poem about the mental implications of lockdown (inspired from the World War One poem ‘The Soldier’ by Rupert Brooke). We human beings were not designed to be locked up. As introverted as I am, being inside all day everyday takes its toll.
This spring, my mind is lost to me:
that my old smile is so tightly sealed
in a box tucked away. But without the key
these long nights have only revealed;
a young man so familial, but lonely and lost
days aplenty in his head sad and alone
with a mind of daffodils and a flurry of frost
in his devices, night terrors left to roam
And think, this onion peeled, augmented
tremors in the eternal mind, no less
conditions to groundhog days relented
silent shakes, wide-eyed and depressed
sore smiles, a post-traumatic adolescence
in prisons at home, breathing in quarantine
blinded by autism, four walls, and a screen.