Senses of Peace

Senses of Peace

By: Ashleigh Keith

When I think of peace
I see the daydreams of the heroes
I hear the pride of the hopeful rise
I taste the sweet aftertaste of diminishing unjustice
I touch the hands of my peers at the beginning of the sunset
And when the sun is no longer in the sky,
I smell the fear of history repeating.

When I think of peace
I see my grandmothers fear of trusting the opposite color
I hear the gunshots of the bystanders
I taste the dust of bones crushing under the heavy boots of the neighborhing skins
I touch the hands of the fallen heros and help them from under the pavement and into my heart
And when the sun is no longer in the sky,
I smell the fear of history repeating.

When I think of peace
I see the eyes of a personal demon, daring me to fit into the sterotype
I hear the battle of voices over the way I should live my life
I taste the playful sweetness of my youth, when nothing matter but being young
I touch pavement that my ancestors laid the groundwork for
And when the sun is no longer in the sky
I smell the fear of history repeating.

What am I really seeing?
Am I seeing the hardships of one kind,
But the advancement of another?
Am I watching history that wasn’t in my lifetime
But was the main reason why my life is what it is?
What am I truly seeing?

Do I hear the screams of the innocent?
Or the shady grunts of the criminals?
Do I hear the beating hearts of humanity?
Or the heartstopping click of a heart attacking itself?
I never had good hearing to begin with, and the clicking isn’t helping me deal with my sudden confusion
So what am I truly hearing?

My other senses aren’t as keen as they should be
Lost some of their value when I strained to see and touch the goodness of others
Lost some of their value when I tried to smell the faint and fast aroma of peace.
They lost some of their value when I suddenly realized that not everybody feels the way that I do.
Don’t get me wrong, I was born with amazing senses.
Being a child
Being a child sharpened my sense of just being carefree.
A time when thinking of such things made my tiny head spin.
I wish my senses where still so sharp and quick.
Because now,
I need them more than ever.