Night Poem by Aidan Naughton

We were just kids, running through the night without a care in the world like birds in the sky flying south for the winter; we were going to our second home. Just like the summer has its winter the day has its night. So we fled from our daily lives and into the softer shades that were provided by the moon's sweet glow. It was the purest essence of freedom. Our steps echoed on the concrete ground as we ran and laughed and yelled. The rhythmic beat of footfalls: a melody singing out to the midnight vagabonds, like us, who hid in the shroud of night to forget their daily routine just long enough that they could play pretend under the moonlight. The quickened breaths: a perfect sign of the excitement flowing through our veins unmatched by any other feeling in the world. The phone call: a piercing tone to shatter the serenity so heavily hanging in the air, like a knife passing through skin, looking for a deeper home within.

I answered the call with a robust greeting. I was met with a quiet whimper. Running, it was remedy for a cloudy mind, where a man braves his grave thoughts, tormented by demons. Two runners, side by side, into the night they charge, aimless. The reason to run makes all the difference, to go, to explore, to seek, to experience life... or to get away from it.

I turn my head to him as we ran and ask, "Why are you running? "

He looks over and says, "People usually feel happy when they see the sunset. The warm inviting colors shine brightly into their eyes and make them feel safe. I don't have that... Instead I don't know what I'm supposed to be looking at. My sunset is different than theirs. I see blue... or is that purple? I'll never be sure, but i do know that it's beautiful. Most people smile at Rainbows. Instead I'd rather find myself looking into the storm that brought it. The rain all looks the same. It's colorless; it removes the insult of beauty. Or does it? I can still see beauty; it's just different than what they see. Perspective is everything, everyone's opinion matters regardless. When I see my school colors, I can't identify... I don't see the green and gold you do. But does that make it any less important? Or does it make it rare... beautiful? "