Today is Britain's National Poetry Day. 

It falls on the first Thursday of October every year, so I thought I would celebrate it by reminding everyone of those long days and nights we all experienced during Bangkok's curfew.

Students studying with their teacher, sadly could no longer be, sitting in their classrooms, content and comfortably.

Bangkok's busy streets emptied, with a desolate overview, as the government decreed, a strict and effectual curfew.

Among my primary hesitations, was at what cost, to necessitate isolation, our freedom would be lost.

A lockdown fell hard upon, with closures high and shutdowns low, some people's livelihoods were gone, whilst
others were furlough.

Monks in temples, chanted out into the evening air, meditation made them able, to soothe our feelings of despair.

Government testing restricted, increase of the infected, positive patients were quarantined, there was no vaccine.

So, our lonelier lives unrolled, Facebook, Line, Skype and Instragram,.with restraint to put on hold, one's life's future plan.

Whereas, I conversed on the social sphere, in discussion everyday, I always had to hear, what each friend had to say.

Often I would stay up late, merely just to contemplate, the population of the world, and what might now be its fate.

While later the realisation, these measures inflicted, the financial devastation, and suffering predicted.

People that did not receive, the government's assistance, tears fell as they could not believe, the divided indifference.

Between an overwhelming need, to feed themselves and survive, some felt beaten, having lost all reason, took their own lives.

Left on the front line to keep up the fight,
risking all on our behalf, undeterred in their plight, superb medical staff.

Thoughts of a selfless deed done, remain unknown, yet never by someone sung, this heroism only God is shown.