I was in the Market building
Practising my shielding
The island slowly yielding
To the new dawn
Blue mask grey eyes
Sitting outside
Looking so fearful
Looking so normal
How did we get here
Governed by our fear
We’re catching no colds
All wearing dumbfolds
Your eyes are shining
And slowly brining
We’re saying nothing
Voiceless, choiceless
Stephen A. Roberts
Image : ©Stephen A Roberts
