Burnt banana bread
Working nine to five,
A late finish here and there.
Shaking buckets dressed as Santa,
Because I’m a fundraiser and I care.
Then overnight the world stood still,
Shops, restaurants and clubs,
All shut their doors ‘til who knows when,
Drinks at home, there are no pubs.
No toilet roll in any shop,
Trust me, I’d visited a few.
No bulk buying of any kind,
What happened to 3 for 2!
Happy lockdown Birthday!
Family and friends shouted from afar.
It’s not the same toasting on video call,
I just miss the damn gin bar!
Then I was put on furlough,
The days blurred into one.
I spent a month in my pjs,
Awaiting the arrival of the sun.
Weeks went by, and nothing changed,
I felt guilty, sadness and anger too.
Is it my fault this has happened,
Was there anything else I could do?
Fast forward more weeks,
More weeks of the same.
I’m no longer in my pjs
And I know I’m not to blame.
It hasn’t ever been easy,
But here’s some things that I have learnt,
I’m still no good at online quizzes,
And my banana bread won’t ever not be burnt.
