Painted Stories

The world’s story is an intricate
painting, a mix of yellows and blues
and various different hues.
Hidden deep in the chaos of
brushstrokes and color are carefully
crafted drops of paint, individual
lives in the midst of the squalor,
each a painting on its own.

I was born at a time
when America was mourning
and living in fear of more
forays from foreign enemies

and technology took off into a new
age, and the world came
to see their country win gold
and bring their glory back home.

As I learned to love words,
the world explored the stars.
They sent the rover to Mars,
then New Horizons to Jupiter, and
I went to Tennessee for the next twelve
years, started school and learned
to read and write, and set
my moral creed and rights.

America recessed,
another sister was born.
I daydreamed and was redeemed and
swine flu flew to pandemic proportions

and I heard the Sandy Hook Shooting
the day I was already sick at home. I
began to see the world as cruel and
began middle school.

I grew up with hope and peace.
I’m still fighting for it.
I’m still making my masterpiece.