The train to San Francisco, June 1978 is ready. All aboard!

See the man in the dark? Almost invisible.

Hear his voice? Nearly inaudible. 

Catch a smell? Putrid.

He is busy and tired 

as if his eyes witnessed too much torment.

Let’s lend an ear to the man in dark,

Hear the words spilling out of his mouth.

What’s his name again? Gilbert Baker.

Mr Baker, what is this piece of art, looks like a mess?

Inaudible. Still invisible. 

Take a look at his past. 

 

Military service. 

Banners.

Marches.

Protests. 

No wonder why he is inaudible. 

But no worries dear tourists!

When the artists lose their voice, their art speaks. 

See the artwork? Vibrant.

Dear colours, you have anything to say about this mess?

• It isn’t mess if affectious, the love made by two is never obnoxious

• Pink’s got a point and I have mine, love gives you life, no one can deny

• As a matter of fact, Red, our love did make them hurt us, but we heal despitefully all the disgust

• You are so dramatic orange, loosen up. The sun always rises to light the very dark places

• I appeciate your positivity yellow, and might add that this is natural what you are feeling

• Love is art, it is mesmerizing all kinds of it. Not despicable like the stigma on it.

• It is peaceful, warm, so serene

• Raises your spirits, do not let one intervene

He is almost finished and glad, fully visible.

His voice? Heard loud and clear.

The smell is divine, what is it the smell of the red rose and the poppies?

We should not get distracted,

Time to get back.

 

The train to June 2021 is ready. All aboard!