We haunt our grim redoubt.
We feed our fears, while bored to tears,
And dream of getting out.
We fill our sink with time to think,
But passion plugs the drain.
Our space gets filled, as pressures build,
The whole house feels the strain.
As mem'ries jog, the catalog
Of grievances expands,
'Til the terrain cannot contain,
The rage and reprimands.
We pace the floor, ready for war...
Will someone cop a plea?
Will someone wise apologize,
And set the captives free?
To live life well, we must not dwell,
But forgive and move on.
We all have debts, and sad regrets,
For love and life are one.
Mick McKellar
July 2020
Trying to stay safe and secured from the corona virus has its own dangers. We rely on time alone to relieve the pressures of constant interaction. Like it or not, we all keep score.
Mick
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