Picture Frames
I live in a world full of pictures. Some sit on a wall, some on the floor. But they're all in front of me. The ones on the wall are plenty. The ones on the ground are less. I look at the wall. Frames of beauty, in every color. They shine and are perfected to every edge. But the pictures they hold are dark and gray. Not one contains any bit of happiness or beauty. I look to the floor. I see broken frames, and shattered glass. But there are pictures in perfect tact. They are bright and full of smiles. Their moods are not gray, but more yellow. I pick one up and put it on the wall. All the perfect frames fall. The glass tearing the gray pictures inside. All the beautiful pictures fling to the wall. All of them frame-less, with no protective glass. But they combine to portray a moral, or meaning. They make a story that can't be told. Their whispering words speak to the soul, and not the eyes. If you look closely, you'll see what they're saying,...