Clocked out on the dot,

Coffee machine broke again,

Stuck in front of the computer,

Meetings back to back,

grey, gloomy skies,

A regular Tuesday.

Clocked out like usual today,

coffee machine still broken,

computer screens,

back to back meetings,

and gloomy, dark skies,

a regular Thursday.

The train wasn’t as packed,

looking out the window,

I saw skies painted in hues of purple,

it’s skies like these,

they take me back to what’s passed,

life always caused a ruckus,

a mischievous lot,

I was a firework ready to explode.

Being young and free,

I made new friends everyday,

saw fresh faces, new experiences,

playground games, playground fights,

every evening, more cheery souls came,

and we’re friends once more,

hours of laughter cut short,

by mom’s shout for dinner.

To distract myself,

I looked to the other passengers,

all familiar, but somehow distinct,

their faces told stories,

their stations wrote their history,

they were fireworks ready to explode.

An elderly couples smile to one another,

the furrowed brows of a coworker,

the glint of a teenager’s eyes,

filled with wonder and fascination,

a toddler's chuckles,

as they run across the cabins.

In a sea of people,

they glowed with every shade of color,

I could see a hint of my youth in them,

the joy in their eyes,

painting the smoky skies with it’s evening hues,

and in repainting the masterpiece,

they repainted me.