Creativity641

Is this really what it means to be American? 

To say: Only certain people can be who they are. 

To start wars. 

To cause pain. 

To put others beneath you. 

This is my last sentence: We all belong here.

This is her last sentence: We all are loved.

This is his last sentence: We are a community.

This is their last sentence: Good will conquer evil.

Woven from feelings of happiness and friendship, short-lived as those feelings may be.

Woven from a cat’s meow and a dog’s tail wag.

Woven from ideals of love and compassion.

Woven from goodness itself.

Do you hear our voices? Our voices longing to be free? Our voices that are suppressed time and time again? Simply because of our identities?

Winter. A time of year we all know well.

A time of year when we hear the ringing of every bell.

A time of year when adults laugh and children play,

A time of year that lasts many a day.

She sat on the steps, enjoying the brisk autumn air. It was the day before Halloween and the smell of cinnamon hung in the air. She knew she’d have to go in soon, but for now life was perfect.