The true world This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

September 22, 2011
The worlds a picture to the outsider
A brother; sister on a lawn, flash by the car
A harried mother shoving clothes and a baby in the car, disappearing in the distance
A young man holding a sign sad and about to cry, gone in the blink of an eye

What’s inside the pictures you see, what’s the mystery?
The brother and sister whispered softly
The brother blind; the sister worried
There shadows stretched out behind them
Suddenly the sister cried running into him
The brother holds her tight tears on his face; tomorrow he leaves for collage.

The glimpse of a life caught in the click of a camera
The mother glances at the house fear shinning in her eyes
Her husband inside sleeps deep a beer held tight
She looks at her child; that he had somehow helped create
To protect that child she slams the door and drives away
For help she hopes and a better life

Does an imprint stay in the camera’s shutters?
A young man holds a sign
His hopes grow great with each slowing car
They crash with each speeding green light
A small piece of cardboard and black writing,
Help me please, my family died

A camera closes down; life trapped in still life memories

A child looks away from the window knees shaking and scared
The car pulls up to a new shiny house
The child sits still as the door opens; his tears shine bright and sparkling in the sunlight
His new mother smiles to wide, his new father waves to hard
He ducks his head uncaring his true family long gone

The world’s a picture to the outsider

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