Tinted Lenses

Bleak, dreary, and dull were his eyes,
lacking any passion or signs of life.
The days a repeating loop
And the years an endless cycle.

Tired of being one of many washed out bricks
That all fit perfectly into the ever expanding wall.
No longer wanting to march in single file
And looking through black and white lenses

Another number among the millions
Still counting up and down for eternity.
Yearning for a life he could never have,
One so bright it blinds him.

The girl was small and skinny,
Her steps no louder than the whispering wind.
Her face not quite clear in the man’s eyes,
But the colors she radiated were the most vivid he saw.

A gentle gesture that had no underlying meaning.
A simple action that took all his attention.
She reaches out her hand to the man,
And he grabs it, melting from the inside out.

The inky sky now a bright pink and purple,
With the sun just peeking over the horizon.
The girl’s smile like a flickering hearth,
Warm as the rocks sitting out in the sunshine.

The lemon fresh scent blows in the wind
And the birds cry out softly amongst each other.
The man could see now that in between,
The black and white hid colors beyond one’s imagination.

Once thinking there was nothing left for him to see,
The man finally changes his lenses.
Tomorrow, he’ll search beyond the mountain peaks.
Forever, he looks for the color.