Quarantined

As the morning sun rises,

it does not shine over me.

I can’t function when everything goes awry.

The best choice today is to not leave


I miss my friends laughing and talking.

I miss singing and dancing on stage.

My brain is incessantly whining

to seek shelter from my redundant rain.


For these next months, weeks, days and nights,

I pester myself and ponder my worth,

if my existence and alleged right

even exists for me, first.


And then I remember Descartes,

whose teachings I’ve somewhat forgot

Je suis parce que je pense,

Et parce que je suis, j’ai de l’importance.


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