Smile

~Snapshots in my mind; yellowed & faded 'round the edges.

~Everything looks the same; folks rushing about, going nowhere.

~Shrieking childen, shrilly ringing cellular phones; they grate against my eardrums like fingernails scraping along a chalkboard.

~The mundane runs together, blurring & mixing like wet ink.

~My eyes wander, seeking wildly for something beautiful amongst the plain.

~They fall upon a young boy, leaning against a wall; a lit cigarrette dangles from his lips.

~The words "punk-rock" come to mind; he sports a mohawk so vibrantly green it rivals only his eyes.

~People push past him, with barely a glance; they drag their inquisitve children along as if they may "catch" whatever it is that he has, & he sneers at them. They should be so lucky...

~I smile at this; the boy returns this gesture with a crooked grin that would shame the cheshire cat...