The wax from the burning candle of 2 hours is now callous.
And the crackling flame has died out
The clock keeps ticking, yet nothing is changing.
Another day is past,
Yet we are still the same.
Waiting for something to change, praying for some sort of miracle.
Expecting the world to go back to routine.
But then, what is that?
My definition may differ to yours.
Stepping outdoors into the blistering daylight.
The streets are deserted as a school during the summer holidays.
The parks which once sufficient with the glee of young children.
Presently vacant with not even the sound of a bawling infant, desperate for their mothers attention
Taking a stroll without the ability to greet the neighbours like we once could freely do.
Instead they look at you as though you are a disease.
Life is like the ephemeral joys of childhood.
Fading away as we lose our grasp.
To be continued.