(no subject)
What is sadness?
The blue eyes like are standing on the dirty smelly street. Leaned against the wall thinking. Why him? For he’s ugly Why asking? For he’s not smart Why money? For he did nothing.
The curls are waving in the wind restless and free as the coldness eats his fingers.
He sees the limo with skull on it’s bonnet approaching him inch by inch until it stops.
The black window rolls down and he notices black ink like climber on the pale skin of the thin hand inviting him in.
He gets inside into the silent darkness and the limo starts moving gliding over the cold road under them.
The limo stops and he gets out he passes the iron fence before coming to cold stairs of stone. He walks up and follows the dark brown curls under the woolen cap into familiar cold room.
He’s shown to sit on the oak bed with black sheets on it. He doesn’t move. He sees the candle on the antique black bedside table and he slowly lift his gaze to the green eyes.
He sees a young face yet so old.
He’s asked what is sadness. He’s embarrassed for he thinks he’s sadness.
He thinks ignorance is sadness but bliss too for he can’t make difference and can’t see it.
He believes it’s loss of someone dear, like his younger brother he lost.
It’s injustice for it hurts hard.
He thinks it’s useful so he appreciates little joys like some smile, or maybe candy.
It’s reality for world is like that, no beautiful faces around.
He believes it’s a first thing baby learns for she’s unhappy when brought to this world.
It’s probably the trait in every move he makes for he brings nothing good.
He thinks it’s pity for it’s bad feeling wrapped in shiny paper.
The pale faces with the green eyes hands him the money and places the hand around his shoulder. It’s comforting and safe felling until it disappears when he gets into the car.
The car drives off and the curls are waving in the wind as the limo disappears behind the curve. He sits confused and still tranquil as the limo stops and he gets out.
He watches it’s black plates disappearing in the moonlight as he crawls his fingers into his pockets patting the paper inside
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maybe i should leave it without specific title?
so how do you like it so far?