I would peer through the pin-sized porthole
With the eyes of a child, fresh and unrefined,
To see the colors, beauty, and splendor,
Of a world deceptively kind.
Then I saw years pass, and kindness fade.
The world made me a man.
Broken trust left me in broken pieces
Like bottles buried in the sand.
I found each piece, piece by piece,
And gathered them in a jar.
Compiling the collection of my painted soul
It was raised in the direction of the nearest star.
In the amber glow and kaleidoscope sparkle,
Fractured fragments shone anew
Each part a part of what makes me special,
Bold, resilient, unique, and true.
In my youth, I saw this world
Picturesque in its rainbow glory.
To see each color, both separate and together
Reveals the map to a greater journey.
About the Creator
Brian Tuomi
Brian is a freelance writer and President/Founder of Sound of a Whisper Project, a nonprofit organization that aims to inspire awareness, volunteering, and expression. His writing aims to support all three of these ideals.
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Off the Book
It ended like every other stupid idea. Badly, and alone. I’m researching digital confession ethics, he said. A tech ethicist. He gestured at floating data I couldn’t see then pulled out a physical notebook. Actual paper, fountain pen. He held it up like he was showing me scripture.
By Nicky Frankly3 days ago in Fiction
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