Creative Writing

We met in a riot.  We stood at the centre of the universe bathed in colours that sang as we sang and fought as we fought.  We were proud and wild and angry, at such a young age We had so much to feel  And we felt so much.  I noticed your fierceness.  How your pink hair was held up by the honey sun  Your green eyes glared at a world which closed its eyes when we got hurt for  Being. We marched for the boy in hospital and for the boy who sat beside him. You brandished your sign to the sky and to God and it asked  ‘how can you hate love?’  It was a carnival of pain and beauty.  We held hands in the crowd like children Because we were children really.  At twenty we had just introduced ourselves...

A sunset is ever-changing, Every minute of it revealing a new face, a new colour, a new sight. Oranges, pinks, and reds colour the sky, Merging to create a new painting every evening. Similarly, how sunsets are constantly altering, So are the people in our life. Every stage of our life contains different people compared with the last, It’s hard to understand that everyone isn’t going to stay. People are always passing by. But that’s okay, Because often through these short encounters with people we learn more about ourselves and we learn new lessons. And perhaps that is their only purpose in our life, The sun sets. And when the sun sets, The stars appear. They are now the light, the colours, and the new sight, But the thing is with stars is t...

We watch our friends find love. In a field or classroom, Whilst we sit in our chairs  And watch the happiness of others. We watch our parents laugh. At the dinner table, Whilst we stare at our plate Wanting the affection of another. We watch strangers embrace. In the dim lit street, Whilst we hide in our rooms Isolating from the danger of others. We watch our siblings happy. With their normality, Whilst we stare in the mirror Wondering what is wrong with us. Photo by Sasha Freemind on Unsplash