These masks are making me edgy
Are those my neighbors or crooks?
The world has lost half its smiles
And where are the pretty girls’ looks?
And what about staying apart?
Six feet may, in fact, be too little
No handshakes, no hugs, no touches
Connections are tattered and brittle
We’ve lost many good things in life
Imprisoned as we are in our house
The germs are the guards for this jail
At least I’m locked up with my spouse
Will this be the plot for the rest of our days?
Can we have any hope we'll defeat the malaise?
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