Photo from The Clock archives

Michael Locatelli
For ‘The Clock’
mlocatelli@plymouth.edu

I used to wake up and admire the sun as it crawled out from the darkness of night,  

blessing the world below with its grace and shine. 

A once illuminated parade of life and happiness, 

now mundane, tarnished by the relentless darkness of the world it brings light to. 

The incandescent power of light seems so powerless against this world of inequity and pain,

similarities connect us yet drive us away from light and love. 

He said, she said, they yell, we yell, 

yet, we all yearn for the same thing. 

The lights of love, and peace, never seem to shine through the blinds of this black parade, 

its skies have been muddy and grey for years, yet I do not pray. 

The sun was once all the hope we could need, 

now I fear we must find new light. 

I lay awake, as the sun crawls back into the darkness of night, asking myself,

why must tragedy, and despair be the drivers of community? 

I grew up happy on the brightest of days, 

yet the brightest of days seem to bring the most amounts of pain. 

The screams and cries on the screens we watch do little but drive us further, 

segregated by faith, and pride, we validate, then impose cruelty. 

Trivial conversation becomes “This sucks” and “I hate that”, 

Friends begin their day with: “He said this”, “and She said that”. 

I used to ponder how the sun remained so consistent, so enabling, and so infectious, 

until the morning it wasn’t. 

When I woke up, and the crippling anxieties of the black parade proved more powerful than her, 

too deep to search for her light. 

Yet, permanence doesn’t exist, and fluidity does, what they told you to fear will cease to exist, 

in this I find hope, for the betterment of life. 

There is still hope in the fluid consistency of the sun, hope in the light it brings each day, 

hope that through the muddy greyness of society’s plights, we may still find love. 

I feared that one day we may be in search of new light for this land we “love”, 

yet, I realize we must learn to love each other for the old light to rekindle its flame. 

Ego, pride, and prejudice, I’m right therefore you are wrong, 

love thy neighbor, treat him as your own, we can find that again, or we can all live alone.