The Colors

March 5, 2009
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As the last of them walked away,
I stood up,
looked around
to see everyone gone.
Dead.

Dead like the character of an old-fashion movie
a slow-motion, black and white movie
no color
no speed
World moving so slowly that time
nearly stopped all together
but my people ran faster than they used to...
before I was born
when no one wondered, worried if they were safe,
when all the colors remained.

Colors, already just a faint memory
I Knew They Were There
the colors
the colors of clothes and skin and dirt
and buckets that we had once used.
Just a faint memory...

Now all that was left was
the dogs
and the flies
and painful, painful echoed screaming,
Screaming that died with my enemy's machetes.
But not a memory
an unfortunate reality that would continue for eternity
in silence.

I screamed to make up for
the silence
screamed to get my family back
screamed in an attempt to remove
the pain
screamed until my throat ached,
and I ached for my family
and I ached for a painless sleep.
Until I ached for the colors to return,
the colors that were dying
slowly and painfully.

When the colors disappeared for good
and the noises never returned
I sat down
on the colorless dirt
next to the bloody bodies of my once-lively friends,
forever sleeping.


The colors of clothes and skin and dirt
and buckets that we had once used...
The Colors Were Gone.





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Todd123 said...
Mar. 16, 2009 at 3:41 am
Great job! Very thoughtful and moving.
 
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