Not at home

It’s been 10 weeks since I have started staying at home.
Every day feels the same like I am not at home.

A familiar sound starts in a distance.
It feels like the siren of a train.
Approaching towards me standing on a green plain.

It takes me a moment to realize
Alas! It is not a train.
It is the same Google alarm,
May be I should throw it out of the windowpane.

“STOP!”, I shout.
The green plains wait for me,
This time with a boat.

The next time I wake up I am already late to a meeting.
“This could have been an email”, I keep repeating.

The code fails to compile.
The documentation is missing in file.
Unwashed coffee cups lay in a pile.
Wait, what the fuck is this coding style?

The day ends at seven.
I go on Twitter to find the economy broken,
Sweden open,
And everyone Woken.

I call home.
Mom asks me “What’s for dinner tonight?”.
I roll my eyes and reply,
“What do you guess? The same thing I had last night.”

I browse Instagram,
With a cup of tea I sip.
Wow this coastal strip!
Man, I miss road trips.

Back on Twitter,
A hundred hands stretch for a banana.
Fuck road trips,
I am back to guilt trips.

An hour of Netflix,
With some Guac and chips.
I boot up Warzone,
To unload my bag of tricks.

I hear the birds start to chirp.
That’s it I call it quits.
Only to play two more games,
Before I gather my wits.

I am back to the start.
It is the same green plain.
Off goes the alarm again.
I give the cry of pain,
STOP! STOP! STOP!
Only in vain.