Elucidating Questions

While the rest of the world gets stuck in the light and the darkness,

The fight to keep the prism grew.

The effort to keep the colours alive as the fall back to old habits, terrible habits,

More a child of the many than a child of the one.

Poured from a cup, the drops fell to earth, the children were made.

The ones who were forced before they could choose, to accept the story their parents told.

If seeking the truth, stepping out of the pages,

The colours are there, beautiful, outrageous.

Colours unseen, but can you imagine?

The colour of a mother seeing her child for the first time.

The colour of a father returning from war to meet his baby and wife.

The colour of an old dog being loved by a puppy.

The colour of a dream come true.

The colour of a couple holding hands and watching fireworks for the first time.

The colour of an old man, saying goodbye to his family, and resting.

The colour of a transient searching for home.

The colour of a mother who cannot feed her children.

The colour of a person who cares far too much.

The colour of silence.

The colour of touch.

The prism of colours nobody knows, the feeling of being, seen, or alone.