Coronavirus Calypso
Going into self-isolation,
As is most of the nation,
To get the toilet rolls in?
The chances? None to thin,
Coronavirus, payment for our sin?
Tellurians, you must not bump into,
Tatterdemalion or the well-to-do,
Urges to touch, you must subdue,
Cut your hair, have basin cut hair-do,
Having sex is still under review!
But pigeons can still bill and coo?
No food in the shops,
Bread, milk, you might find a few,
You'll have to fight and argue,
Battle with the determined queue,
Then blood and insults will spew,
The language'll be very blue!
You might try home delivery for food,
To sustain you and your brood,
If you do, try home delivery food!
To the delivery man, do not be rude,
Self-isolation is wrong, some folk argue,
But I'll not be involved over this, thank you,
HMG responses seem so impromptu,
Certainly going to cost us revenue,
Self-isolation, so many folk rue,
A bit of good news is overdue,
Confusion over what we must do,
We mustn't shake hands too!
Is mankind's end really in view?
Stuck at home, what do we do?
Clean shelves and dust that statue,
Pen some extra veins to your tattoo,
No food in, so no chocolate to chew,
Can't get out to buy, so no making stew,
Your plans and orientation, none askew!
Sit, read a book, perhaps of Fu Manchu,
Back of the fridge, mouldy Danish blue?
You're starving now, for tea that'll do!
Dig around the sofa for crisp-crumbs residue!
The nurse's visit cancelled too,
Mind froze, stagnated; what will ensue?
Where is the spirit of World War Two?
Is it the end? Will you ever again hear a cuckoo?
Is it to be that you'll not see another cup of tea?
Farewell, to your beloved tasty Glengettie brew?
Your mind gets depressed; whatever can you do?
Finally, you get a plan made and worked through!
Escape! Find food, and hopefully, a toilet roll too!
Your plan to go shopping, sanctioned by the Tenant's escape crew,
How to get us through, whatever can you do?
They don you with a wig to hide your bald head from view,
You know you may not return, but offer your neighbours a thank-you,
Creep out, staying in the shadows, your walking stick oiled too,
Arrive at the store, but what a sight greets you...
But it's the future, your deja vu, hitherto!
Empty shelves, fighting, greed, at Sainsbury's too!
Little fresh food, no toilet rolls, not even a tissue!
This was now a serious issue,
You give an Achoo - but nobody blesses you!
Last week, I departed, with a facemask on us,
Met a protesting, nasty gang of AntiMaskers!
Their mood, angry and ablatitious,
They knocked me off of my walking stick, so vicious!
All, bar one of the paramedics, were wonderous,
He was an anti-face masker; and kicked me in the knackers!
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