David Bilsborrow and Cheryl Bilsborrow
The elderly and vulnerable sit bewildered, lonely, trapped like prisoners in care home cells or in their houses where only they do dwell.
Teenage frolics and love tails told for years to come, lost to a clock that stopped life moving on.
The loss of work or work from home, this is a shock to many, it’s not our norm.
Masks hide the loneliness and mental turmoil that triggers anger and anguish, our patience wears thin.
Everyone’s normality is different, everything has changed. We grasp onto what we once knew and falsify reality in a dressed-up manikin, a way of comforting us, a way to cope.
We are rocked by this fear of death, this fear of a shortened life, some continue regardless with an arrogance with the attitude, it won’t be me, but it could be you.
For the first time we are metric, two metres not two yards, but this is lost on many who seem to have no regard.
With no end in sight what will turn on the light? Is this a new norm, should we sit and wait, should we stride out and take our chances and leave selection to the law of fate?
If this was a war we would rise and fight, but we sit and ponder while the enemy gets stronger.
Let’s herd our immunity, mutate our defences from within, stop the waves washing up on our shores.
Let’s defend our future, what we love and know, battle to win our freedom and bring normality back.
Take the handbrake of the clock, for we don’t want a world that is put on hold.