It’s almost as if everything stops.

The air stills until the dull murmur of the rain continues

Leaving me restless.

It’s the world’s gasp for air, 

A chance to breathe.

Yet I become scared,

In the aftermath of a lethal explosion.


I force myself to face the ceiling.

Becoming intertwined with the popcorn littered sky.

Mountains and valleys of endless imaginations

Creating memories of the oddly cratered canopy,

Taking me back to a land I was happier.

Silhouettes dancing

Children laughing

Crowds cheering

Voices singing

Images etched into my mind that one shape causes me to relive.


But suddenly I awake from my trance.

The room lit from an unwanted light.

Still, the muffled drone of the rain continues

As I wait anxiously for the burst of a cannon.

Eventually, I can return to my world of remembrance

And savor the stillness.


This poem is about: 


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