The First Color

The First Color

The last cut was made.

And no one noticed

But it was not their fault truthfully,

They lived in an endless land of

Rocks, small pebbles, grains of broken giants

With every step, they sunk

Instead of moving forward, they moved backward

And no one noticed

But it was not their fault truthfully

They all saw the same

Because well, truthfully, they all looked the same

Passing each other with the same expressions

The same expressions with no emotions

Like a line, life stayed in one straight direction

It was clean, safe, controlled, predictable

It was boring, the same, useless, dead

Truthfully, they lived a life without color

From the direction of up

Was where everything was changed

The direction of up

Was where the last cut was made

It exploded!

Wrapping around everyone

It looked like what it felt to feel something

Something like

Love, anger, fear, power, excitement

Instant warmth, brightness

People looked around smiling, praising, laughing

Years to come, they would call this red

The first color

And no one noticed

But it was not their fault truthfully

Because the last cut was made

It made red.