They call it a lockdown so I'm locked in, looking out the window I’m boxed in. no words to say no where to stay no one is social no one can play.
They call it a lockdown so I’m locked in. I’m locked up like its pot luck, chains round my neck like Bin Ladin. Am I a criminal this is something criminal I’m placed in four walls like I am an animal
They call it a lockdown so I’m locked up. I cough next to you so I get beat up. Done with the virus tired of the virus, I’m singing the same tune like Miley Cyrus.
They call it a lockdown so I’m locked up. living with my demons I’ve had enough, these politicians making strange decisions, all in the name of keeping their positions
They call it a lockdown I call it locked up. Mandatory vaccinations, police parading stations, no travelling abroad we are stuck.
About the Creator
Grace Thomas
Hello I am an amateur drama Graduate. I love to write fiction and non fictional stories and poetry
My writing is to inspire, entertain, advise and challenge the reader. Enjoy!
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Memories of a psychotic
Does she know you’re psychotic! Mum screamed at me across the dining room table in her demeaning stance. She was referring to my new landlord whom I was supposed to live with for university. I had been offered a place for a leading university in the UK for my course, little did I know what the future would hold in the next few days, it certainly wasn’t enrolment. I felt humiliated, vulnerable, useless and tired. There was no fight left in me and so I did whatever I was told. “you are sick”, “you are not firing right”, “you are not going to university”.
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