i am fascinated by the human emotional spectrum.
when i see the humorous glint in their eyes,
the pale skin due to heart-wrenching horror,
or the fire they seem to hold in between their closed fists
i am once again reminded that humans,
though extremely fragile,
have the power to penetrate from within the viewfinder.
we run and run
through the spotlights
under the street lamps
and the trials of what is yet to come.
you and i have gone a long way:
you were there when the girl who
first stole my heart
had shared a milkshake on
red leather seats,
and when the same girl left
after paying her bill.
the night is young,
our neighbors are nowhere but in the land
that their heads paint as they sleep;
you and i become artists of the sidewalks and
the rough concrete.
we leave our mark.
"long live the thieves of the street."
this boy, they say,
contained specks of stardust in his eyes.
he has an infinite potential;
just like the sun,
he starts the day with gentle light
and a warmth that no other human
can ever posses.
i often wonder if he ever feels alone,
if he ever feels troubled,
if he ever misses his home.
not once did i see a fraction of sadness
in his sunrise eyes.
i hope he knows
that he can give the world so much
more than he can think of.
i hope the cameras don't take away
the transparency of his innocent heart.