I always dreamed that my life would be like it is in books.
Little did I know that would later come true.
It’s not quite what I imagined, though.
I did not imagine a government that was poisoned with hatred.
I did not imagine people’s rights being taken away one by one.
I did not imagine a dictatorship taking over the supposed “land of the free.”
When I wished for life to be like a story, I never meant a dystopian one.
Posted in response to the challenge Democracy & Ethics – Writing.
When I think of the color green, I think of the trees behind my school. In kindergarten, when kids were cruel and words hurt more than sticks or stones, the trees were there.
I made tea this morning.
I put the leaves in, watching the steam dance with childlike wonder.
I returned to my laptop, staring at a half finished chapter, the bags under my eyes more apparent than ever.
Moving on is different for everyone, and eventually, you’ll never think of them again.
Is what I hear from everyone.
Comments
Well said. Especially now, keep writing
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