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Quarantine No one can come to our house Except the Doctor man We can't go anywhere Until he says we can. We cannot write a letter Or send an order out We can't pay a darned old bill One vantage point - no doubt. Nobody wants our money Or anything we've got. We're all by our lonely So tears this page should blot. This really should be very sad But then-now, still and by It really hasn't been so bad, And I will tell you why. We can sleep late in the morning He've naught to waken for No work to do, but in the house No lunches to pack any more. We can work on jigsaw puzzles And let the dishes go. No one can stop in here to call So nobody will know. 1942 Scarlet fever epidemic

A poem written during the scarlet fever epidemic | /r/mildlyinteresting


Uploaded by Reddit Moments Mar 30, 2020 at 02:02AM EDT

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Uploaded Mar 30, 2020 at 02:02AM EDT

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Mildly Interesting

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