Bold, bright colors.
People in your face, faces in your peep holes.
Beautiful, exaggerated, excited.
All have shown up to make a statement.
All have an opinion.
Does your opinion matter?
Only to you.
Only if it is the right one.
Today, all the people have the same opinion.
Thankfully, they all match mine.
The world is a colorful beach ball on a sunny day, today.
Later.
After the Parade.
The colors have washed away in a cold, apathetic rain.
Like laundry colors bleeding away, down the drain.
All that is left is shades of pastel and gray.
Gone are the faces, as the party is over.
Ugly, quiet, depressed.
That is what is left.
After the Parade,
We are left to clean the gray streets.
They have taken the colors with them.
About the Creator
I AM
This is not who I thought I would be. Before my family was captured and forced into slavery, I had aspirations of becoming a wealthy business owner or possibly a scholar and philosopher. Becoming a warrior was the furthest thing from my mind. Unfortunately, our Roman conquerors had other plans.
By Mark Gagnon4 days ago in Fiction
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