The streets are still the same
Whift of fragrance in the air
of flowers, of food, of sweat
this is the street, I have walked
many times, watching my step, avoiding broken path
careful not to kiss the floor
Bread must be earned
for the family to feed
vendors wait with their wares
for brave shoppers who dare
its the sense of freedom
that floated around
but that exists no more
all people express behind
their mask stoned
fear writ
across their eyes
handcuffed by sanitised cream
suspicious of deadly disease
I walk back behind closed doors
cooking washing hundred times
view from window is fair enough
the birds, the sky, the concrete hearts
thats my life, the new normal
watching lives through instalives
life stand still
