in Poetry 63 Words

Somewhere, Someplace






Somewhere between
Aloneness and solitude-
The sound of an ambulance.

ICU
The oxygen
A lifeline.

Primitive night~
The day never 
Prepares you for this.

Lost for words~~
The pause between breaths:
Filled with 
Memories.

Fragments of thoughts;
Caught in the 
Lines of a poem.

The rhythm of 
Falling rain~~
My head fills 
With words.

Somewhere, someplace-
We all dream 
Under the same moon....










		
	
			

			
				


			

			
					

	

			
	
			



	
			

			110 thoughts on “Somewhere, Someplace”		


		
		
    
					
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    A beautiful tragedy and real eye opener, for we don’t know what could be happening behind closed doors a few streets away. My thoughts and prayers go to everyone affected in these unprecedented times 💫✨
    

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				Pingback: Somewhere, Someplace — yaskhan | Ned Hamson's Second Line View of the News 			
    
		
      
		
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    And a picture of teary restless eyes looking at the ceiling, breathing in the oxygen as if they had just realised how much fate is willing to robb of them, … so heart touching dear! Really loved this piece Yasmin~💝🥰🙈
    

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    This is so beautiful…the words just seem to seep in and slowly take control of the senses till you begin to read them all over again….and then the whole process starts. Loved it! Beautiful. 👏👏👏
    

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    There are many tinges of grief, within this work. I am guessing you are referencing COVID19, through this poem. I could be wrong.
    

    This piece reminds of the grief, the confusion, the stagnant awareness we feel upon a time in our lives we feel lost. We have lost someone, so therefore we have lost a part of ourselves. We have lost what we have attached to ourselves.
    

    And, yes. We do all dream under the same moon. We are also warmed by the same sun. We are also frozen by the same coldness, and able to see by the same light.
    

    Nothing surrounds us, if we cannot hold something we share with others, being that light.
    

    What we see in this world, is something we cannot lose. It is hope, as it is light. Solitude brings a time to think on our faults. Inner scars become so apparent in a dark room, as we stare into ourselves, like nails that have drawn lines on a chalkboard. While we see what we have lost, we realize what must replace such loss.
    

    More light. More warmth.
    

    I like when poetry can make me think. 🙂
    

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    Those last lines Yassy, I’m swooning over them. Somewhere, someplace everybody is dreaming under the same moon, and somewhere, someplace somebody writes of this beauty in such a way that somewhere, someplace somebody loses his way of thinking straight. Somewhere, someplace somebody has done her magic.
    

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