Lights

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This is the story of Sylver Raine.

The lights will flash through the day time and the night. When though you may not think they’re flashing, they are. They don’t stop even when you’ve lost the final fight. Because even though you may not feel it physically, you can connect to it mentally. Although you may not portray it on the outside, I can see through the secret inside she’s trying to hide. She shut the door; closed the blinds. She segregated herself from the world outside because she was the outsider stuck with the task of trying to fit in; trying to belong to a world which didn’t want to be longed for. That’s not the only reason why she shut the door. Unlike a window, this door is opaque. The glass in the centre misplaced and instead filled with the cardboard of fear that blocks her dreams from which she quakes.  A windowless room allows no light to get through to her humble abide. But I can see through the secret inside which she tried to hide. You see, she could plaster a smile on her face and elaborate on her fake feelings but life is a lesson worth teaching. But you can’t teach values from a book, or in a classroom. They have to be taught in the world around you. Every day is a test on life. The ups, the downs; all represented by the lights that will flash through the day time, and the night. Because she’s stuck on a never ending roller coaster of her own creation, yet she can’t undo the action laced, fast paced life mutation. And as the clocks tick, the light switch flicks on and off in the same constant pattern, desperate for more energy. And her journey is cut short since she can’t afford the petrol needed to power her dream’s Concorde. She’s no longer permitted to fly. She waste’s her energy trying to keep the secret inside because the deeper it gets, the harder it is to hide. See she grew up believing that no one would respect us. It’s not ARD to see that trust doesn’t trust love and love doesn’t trust us. As she adds more days more secrets get written page, by page. Even though the lights will flash, blinding her for split seconds in the day time and the night, she still had enough willpower to write her secrets whilst each white page reminded her of the peace for which she didn’t have room, her thoughts never had a chance to clash with the flash of the lights or the sound of the beating drum amidst the gloom. She made all the right and wrong moves necessary to choose how her game play could be improved although I was still first player. I could still see through her tanned skin, her weary eyes. What happened next would leave you surprised. What happened next left her surprised. I am the one with the secret inside which no one could ever find, access denied. She could confide in me because all our secrets branched off from the same tree. The leaves of isolation could swirl from the branch to the ground and even though it hurt, neither of us made a sound because sound shows weakness which attracts the eyes of predators around. And although I prayed that I would not become prey the secret inside grew in time attracting the eyes of not only predators but perpetrators alike and that’s what caused the demise of our disguise. We decided not to hide the secret inside but to plant it in the soil and let it grow through rain, hail, thunder and snow. That way, everyone would know. Not just us. See, the lights flashed through the day time and the night. When, thought I didn’t think they were flashing, they were. I couldn’t connect to it physically but mentally I knew that the final fight is the true saviour of the guiding light. Because even though she wins, she still comes out bruised. In the end, we both lose; surrendering ourselves to the lights that flash not only in the day time, but the night.

This poem is about: 
Me

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