This prompt was from a poem titled No one said that it wouldn’t rain by Maya Stein. This piece was one of the few ones where what I’ve written wasn’t about myself. Instead, there was a distinctly male voice dictating what I’ve put down on paper that I can hear inside my head. Of course, some bits did come from me, the bits about rainbows being half to a hollowed circle and stacked pebbles- the former from a movie, the latter I don’t know, from blog posts or generic Net surfing.
No one said it would be easy. Usually the good stuff ain’t easy.
No one said tomorrow would rain. It might though. You don’t know.
No one said I would be here, alone, writing this. Thinking of the past, locked in the present, with no future.
No one said you would be reading this. Will you be reading? Will this scrap of parchment be found, ever?
No one told me about rainbows. Recited the seven colours of it to me in order. Told me that it’s supposed to be the half to a hollowed circle, the other half lying in Heaven where we cannot see. Has someone told you these things? I learnt them by myself.
No one told me about pebbles. About how you stack them to form something special. I’ve forgotten what it was, what it all meant.
No one told me about life. I’ve lived it by exploration, like a blind man groping around in a strange place.
No one told me about you. But I can see you. I can feel you. I can imagine you. Warm against me, head nestled against me, my arms around you.
No one told me about myself. How they think of me, how they see me.
No one said that one can stay young forever. Or stay in one place. Or never change.
No one said that I’m beautiful. Not when I was young, when I wanted to hear that, would like to hear that, perhaps.
No one said that I’m wise. I was never wise. I was a fool.
No one said that I’m brave. I’m just average, same as everyone else.
No one said that I’m lucky. Luck and me… luck is elusive. I don’t hope to grasp it.