Spark by Orange

One person, one moment, one purpose forever stolen, by ridicule and a sense of inferiority, where no evidence save a slight will ever be, but then was a time of confusion, amidst peers who could come to a conclusion without anything to go on but an illusion of what they don't understand, leaving bruises so deep the only evidence to show will be the reactions of the man in life's trials down the road, but for now only a social division is what will grow, and if nourished by the continued grief from any who would seek a better station for themselves, this boy will have nowhere to go but a bus station to well, any place that isn't a continuation of the same old story of beaten up for someone else's glory, for fear that he may be a better than them you see, if kept from the light no one will see, and if kept in the dark long enough that's where he will want to be, but the thing about the dark, is your eyes will eventually, be able to catch any spark of light and so you will learn to see, that in darkness the most beautiful thing is watching the birth of a star from that first glimmer until it rises up to be seen, by everyone in the light, where they accept it as a new thing, but they are only half right cause what they see, is only a finished product, not the real entity, so this boy helped by a family, of darkness who showed him how to be like the rest, chose to take the bus back to the light to show the rest of the world that in the darkness may be where your evils are, and although battered beaten bruised and scarred, the heights they achieved while you weren't looking are the ghosts and shadows of your brightest stars, but you in the light wouldn't know it and that's not to say that you are incapable of doing so, it's just difficult unless you are one curious enough and don't mind going outside too far, to find the beauty of the suffering who are learning to be stars, at the cost of your own social standing, for the bus fare to get there requires more than a penny, and all the money in the world will only get you to the landing, you will change and the people around you won't ever look the same, but that's ok because you don't want them to anyway, some will be brighter and some will be darker, but their light you will see and that makes it harder, not easier as you might think it would be, because you will note things that are terrible in those you once thought as kings, and things in those you were taught were no better than fleas, that bring you to tears and a sense of shame for thinking them unclean, and with this thought i leave you to question, what it really is that you have left and forgotten, in your life long quest to find a place for you to be a mountain, so none can move you, or ever prove you to be a less than them, while you gaze up at the stars who look like the lives that you stepped in.