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Stay at home

Stay at home. They tell us to stay at home? But what is home? Is it being trapped with an abuser? Is it undergoing traumatic days and suffering while gathering memories that i don't want to keep? Is it waking up every day and walking on a thread? I don't even know where it's leading me to. Though, I hope it leads me to somewhere I can get food from, Because, you see, It's quarantine day thirty And I'm surviving on a piece of bread, everyday. Everyday you wake up with the thought of "What am I going to bake today?" We are not the same. You complain if you don't get your food on time And I'm here wondering whether I'll even get food tonight. We are not the same. Are you still hungry? Here, devour this poem, Or is the truth too bitter for you to swallow? Sorry, I forgot to use enough metaphors while describing my affliction Maybe that's why it doesn't taste sweet enough But I'm trembling with distress. Can it ever taste 'sweet enough'? You say the streets are empty, everything is so quite But why am I in a chaos? or maybe that's just the sound of pain travelling through my veins. The outside world that once used to be my sanctuary, has now become so lonely. Now I'm looking for that haven in other places, in other faces But then I look at you and see that you have the audacity to complain that you're bored? I've lost faith in humanity. But you know what? You're right. Too bad that the government doesn't care about your happiness Too bad that you have to stay at home and binge watch series Too bad that you have "nothing to do" Too bad you get to acquire education from under your roof Too bad, too bad, you're too selfish I'll tell the rest of the world to be a little quiet They're disturbing your peace I'll tell the rest of the world to stop suffering They're ruining you're lifestyle I'll tell the people to stop crying just because their loved ones are dying You don't like to hear the sound of grief. The world and I, we apologise, dear privileged ones.

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