Trapped in home made offices , we work
Reading from our screens, no space for thought
As we type ,our tender fingers hurt
Not the copperplate that I was taught
No commuting, no more fraught deceit
Harder are affairs, no private door
No more kisses unless they are quite fleet
Just daydreams, which will come to be no more
No walking to the station at sunrise
No hour alone to read or look without
All is known, where is the grand surprise?
Where the room for thoughtlessness or doubt?
Work from home but keep some private space
Do not harm your friends, keep from disgrace
No new disgrace
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