I stepped
into a random person's
hallway.
The welcome mat
was nice.
Sweet,
slightly battered.
I stepped onto
the carpet,
and looked around.
The wallpaper
was brown.
Neutral,
but boring.
Then I squinted,
and noticed
a peeling corner.
Turns out,
under that brown
was a spontaneous
rainbow.
That made me smile.
The rainbow
was so much better
than the brown.
Looking around,
I could notice
a few things
this person seemed
to like.
Headphones on the side table.
Sticky-Notes everywhere.
A couple stacks of books.
A single flower plucked at the stem.
I tried to open
the drawers,
but they were locked,
and I didn't have
a key.
Maybe sometime.
There were
framed pictures
on the walls.
Lots of smiling faces.
Arms around shoulders.
Messy hair.
Shining eyes.
A couple frames were dusty.
Others, polished new.
I gasped
as one crashed
to the floor.
One blink,
and it disappeared.
I kept walking,
nearing the
window
at the end
of the hallway.
The view outside
seemed so
beautiful.
I lent on the windowsill,
and looked past the curtains
at the sight.
Yet,
something
seemed
off.
The glass
was too
shiny.
I slid
my fingertips
into the crack
of windowsill,
hefting the panes
upwards
to feel the breeze
for myself.
Along with the glass
went away
the view.
A fake window.
I never would have thought.
A safe met my gaze
in place of the window,
nestled in a hole
cut deep in the wall.
Dark
and
big
and
sort of
scary.
But what is fear
compared
to curiosity?I visit
this hallway
a lot now.
Each time,
I noticed
something new.
A number
on the back of a frame.
A sticker
on the pair
of headphones.
A sign here
and over there
everywhere,
yet never seen before.
And each day,
I got closer
and closer
to opening
that safe.
Until I finally did.
You must want to know
what was so carefully
hidden there.
Well...
it's a secret.
But what I found out
was that
this one hallway,
one in a million,
was more fascinating
than I
ever
could
have
imagined.
YOU ARE READING
Feathers: A Book of Poetry
PoetryA pencil is the spotlight of a soul. It tells them its okay to overflow. It tells them ideas are art, and that the best ones are masterpieces. Feathers is a collection of poetry by me to convey the beauty and undeniable strife of the world, and emot...