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There is an artist that sits on the bench sometimes. He likes to draw people with character. The signs of life you can see on their faces. The happy faces of children, the sad face of an old man, the beauty of life you can see on an elderly ladys face. The light of love on the faces of a young couple, the joy of a young mother as she sings to her baby. But the bench knows his secret too. He is sad because he would like to draw always. But he has a family to take care of so he only persues his passion for art in the park. He doesn't know how good he is. A young man comes and sits with a pad and pen in hand. He looks around for a moment. Then the words flow from his pen and become beautiful on the pages. He writes on and the sun moves across the sky. He is lost in his world of words. From his heart comes words of love. Oh if he could only put what he feels in a book. How does he start? He has no secrets for the bench to keep. Just that he loves to write. Only that he gets lost in his words. An old lady comes by and parks her buggy at the end of the bench and sits for a while. She has a bag of birdseed and the birds flock to her as she spreads it out. As she feeds the birds she remembers how it once was when she had someone. She had a home once but now all is gone and she lives in the park and on the street. Everything she has is in that buggy. Her memories are there, a picture of a husband long gone, some old love letters he wrote tied in a pink ribbon. A picture of a child she lost long ago. The bench knows of her life before because she takes out her memories sometimes and lets the tears of loneliness flow. The bench knows but its not talking. Her secrets are safe! neon_sapphire |