Assumption

The Strong hide effectively behind eyes of hazel, brown, or blue. Teardrops trickle internally, forming pools not on the floor, but in the heart. Smiles are painfully upturned lips. The Strong's laughter is music sung in soprano-music that is meant to be sung in alto.

The Strong are noble sufferers-con artists who have perfected their art, deceiving unwitting masses to see white instead of black. The Strong showcase facades-they are magicians with a myriad of tricks up their sleeves, pulling insecurities masked as confidences like rabbits out of top hats. Their melancholy is unrecognizable wearing polished shoes, ties, and suits of fine silk.

The Weak are beautiful tragedies; poets trying to overcome writer's block. Sunken eye sockets hold volumes of the same lamented tale while feeble bones break under crushing burdens that demand to be borne.

The Weak are lambs that have succumbed to the wolves that prowl their minds. They are gaunt angels whose wings have been broken by demons, whose ethereal sparkle has gone dull, whose luster has been replaced by earthly flecks of dust and finely powdered ash. The Weak are crumbling castles victim of an ephemeral reign, whose rooms of golden jewels and silver cups have become nothing but shattered windows and tattered tapes tries shrouded in past memory.

The Silent are private-feelings are tidal waves that engulf the senses. The Silent hold secrets like those found in cracked crevices in grey alley ways; they are lilliputian four-leafed clovers that go unnoticed in immeasurable fields of three-leafed ones. The Silent's words, when spoken, fumble like quarterbacks badly hit. Yet behind the guise of oversize sweaters, rigid posture, and hesitant eye contact lies an inner realm of vast landscapes whose expanses remain largely unexplored by those of external reality.

The superficial is The Silent's worst enemy. Harsh judgments, snide comments, and penetrating stares are insurmountable forces that cause the inevitable retreat into oneself.

"The Weak are The Strong, The Strong are The Weak...
The Strong are The Silent... The Silent, The Strong. The Weak are The Silent... The Silent, The Weak...."

Assumption strikes like lightning and causes the audacious notion that we as observers can effectively judge an individual, when in reality, our perceptions are as easily able to be blurred as watercolors or our vision in a snowstorm. Avoid affliction of this misconception by diving beneath the surface to discover what lies beneath rays of false sunlight and seemingly calm waves. Use gentle words gathered from rainbows, whose shy colors will soften the dark skies of troubled minds. Listen to the wind's whisperings when wandering through the forests of the solitary. Not all locks are foolproof-we hold the key to see what lies behind closed doors.

All it takes is to step inside.