It's week two of our partial lockdown, curfews and life in this fifth wave. My heart goes out to people living alone, especially seniors who have no family or few friends. And then I feel for youths. How do they see the world these days, having been robbed of so much these passed two years underlining grief etched upon faces woven in the fabric of their souls upside down smiles not knowing why, how, when will life feel moderately tolerable again trying to pull away feeling bits of freedom independence rebellious teens being teens but not now stolen pockets of time laughing with friends no one sees their smiles masked with triple layers no one sees their frowns no one hears their truths crying silently in their dreams underlining grief etched upon faces woven in the fabric of their souls a time to make friends meet new people parties here get-together there finally find that special person who gets them… and yet, all those experiences pre-pandemic wishful dreams unrequited loves unfulfilled aspirations isolation desperation precious paltry moments facetiming, echoes of a video chat working part time everyone under pressure bosses seem demanding clients irritated parents stressed and worried cabin fever breaks time for a walk bike ride is always safe winter sucks these times holding them hostage reality biting with a vengence underlining grief etched upon faces woven in the fabric of their souls © cheryl-lynn ‘2022-01-07 Daily Moments Jan 7 2022
Tag: isolation
when all the guests leave (Troiku)
boisterous energy
guests finally take their leave
silence is deafening
boisterous energy
contagious laughter
warms her heart
guests finally take their leave
savours cup of camomile
trace of loneliness
silence is deafening
conversations in her mind
mute the quiet
© Tournesol ’15
Is compassion enough?
it seemed so hopeless
and hard to see the light
walking in the darkness
having lost sight
blind to any likely hope
focus only on despair
not seeing some DO care
that love is everywhere
one may just not be aware
yet…
misery is tormenting sometimes
but still … temporary…
suicide is tragic every time
yet still … permanent!
somehow we must try
harder
somehow we must speak
louder
somehow we must hear
better
somehow we must help
further
somehow we must never
stop trying, reaching, talking, listening
and above all caring.
by Cheryl-Lynn Roberts, originally written September 7, 2013
Photo: deadlygothicdesigns.webs.com