“Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” This is what is stated in the Constitution that every human being deserves — and yet not all of them have obtained it. There could be many reasons for this, though I believe it’s due to the fraudulent idea that America is the country of wonders. The truth is that we still have, and always will have, the same struggles we had back then — only now it is masked by a false sense of security in our ‘freedom.’ 

If I were to be asked my standpoint, I would give the answer that we must acknowledge this problem for it to change. A country of liberty where not everyone is free is not and never will be a country of liberty — simply of fraud. A country of life where you must hide the most important parts of yourself will never be a country of life — just one of silence. A country founded in the pursuit of happiness where not everyone is free to be happy in their own identity is not a country founded in the pursuit of happiness — but of the quiet of depression.

A country that is built upon a phrase that holds no meaning and is just empty repetition was never a country, but a prison in the shape of one. Americans today are stuck in land that once did belong to them, though now is fire under their feet. It is a place where, if you do not hide who you are, your very right to life is threatened. It is a place where you must conform to fit those around you and are demonized for standing out, standing up.

But we must stand up.

We must be the change we want to see in our country. We must stand for what is being withheld for us, which just happens to be life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness — the very things that the Constitution has promised to us. If we so wish it, then we can get it — even if it does take time, and effort, and the little freedom we are already stuck with.

We must stand out. We must be the difference. We must win our rights back, because as I see it now, our country is corrupt with power that we could fix — that we need to fix. 

As I see it now, there is still a chance of gaining these freedoms, but not if we continue to lay low and cower back when the people who fit the norms attack us. The first step to change is difference. We must become the difference, we must encourage others to be the difference. One person will not change the mess, but a unified effort, however small, can be the first step.

They will push, but we will push back. We may fall, but we will always fall into one another, because this is what it means to be free. To live with no restrictions, no matter how you may identify, is to reach the goal that we, Americans, have always been fighting towards.

I can give no answer if our fight will ever end, but we cannot count our losses without first acknowledging our wins. And when we look at history, we have so many more wins. We cannot count our losses without first seeing how much we have won and gained from those wins, which makes all the difference. 

Count our losses, but never forget they lead up to the victories. Losing one battle will never mean losing the war. 

I am one…

I am one with the land.

I am one with the sea.

I am one with the animals.

I am one with the trees.

I am one with nature, but where oh where could Mankind be?

I cannot see them over the ridge line.

I cannot see them over the waves.

I cannot see them by land or by air.

Where oh where could my brothers and sisters be?

But then I see a single figure coming towards me from the distance.

And then we stand, face to face, and look to each in resistance.

“Finally,” I say, “my kin has appeared.”

“Nay,” they say, “I am not your kin.”

“But how?” I ask. “You look like me, talk, like me, and walk like me. We share the same blood.”

“Yes, that may be so,” says my kin, “but by heart, we are not… so our kinship cannot grow.”

“Do you mean beliefs?” I ask, shocked and askew.

“Yes,” says my kin, “You are different from me, I am different from you.”

But why? I wonder, Why oh why must it be this way? 

Two beings that will always meet,

But never learn to love. They will always fight.

Like lightning and thunder,

Like night and day.

“We cannot be the same. I suppose, we cannot be one,” I say.

“Yes, I suppose so,” says my kin, “We cannot be one. All is done.”

And the world cowers in fear as the war and hatred rages on. 

But why oh why

Can it not all be gone?

The world's kinship is divided,

And the world's fate must be decided,

And humanity is left to see.

And where oh where… could my brothers and sisters be?

This was probably one of my deepest poems I made. To try to explain it so you can understand, it's basically one of my old poems, about how beliefs, differences, and war sometimes get in between seeing the good in people. I like the saying, "don't judge a book by its cover". You really can't judge a person without getting to know them one on one first. I think if we all would just see people for who they are on the inside, rather than the outside, our world would be a little kinder. 

Sorry for the long speech, lol. Hope you enjoyed! :3

They tell me their stories

All the fun here and there

They tell me their lessons

What they chose to hear

They tell me their worries

What they can’t help but mirror

They tell me of their hatred

Who makes them mad when they’re near

They tell me all their dreams

What they wish to see

They tell me all their fears

Unable to let them be

They tell me everything, every grievance 

What makes them sad

All that annoys 

And how they’re glad

They spill their secrets

Pour their hearts

They lay their life out 

Beginning at the start

They speak to me

As if no one else can hear

They speak to me 

With no listening ears

He lived for 47 years and he still made two of the best political fiction books of all time. The British writer George Orwell made 1984, and Animal Farm. These books exposed corruption and exploitation of human rights in politics to the world. He got shot while fighting a totaltarian group in the Spanish civil war. He was poor for his younger life and still got into one of the best colleges in Great Britain. Through these experiences, Orwell knew what he wanted to write. Orwell masterfully handled the topics, and because of that, he became one of the most famous authors in the 20th century. His ability to mix fiction and real world issues is, in my opinion, the best of all time. There are many issues that still remain, but his books made people realize what was really going on around the world. George Orwell showed the world the effects of how leaders can control their people through fascism and people then learned how it was happening around the world.

The two of them sit on the porch

basking in the sunlight

letting their toes explore the first

frost-bitten mud of spring

Talking about life and death and sex

and little Mika's school play

and how to keep on without much pain

or fear of endings

The younger woman is a seamstress

she shucks corn into a bucket 

and loves God

and is scared 

but knows what is right

The older woman is a scientist

she reads an essay on experimental economics

and is not afraid

but curious

and would never say she knows what is right

not for sure

When the sun gilts their bodies 

just before melting beneath the shadows of the highest branches 

they turn their faces to it

one with gratitude

the other wonder

and together wish their star goodnight

before 

wiping the mud off their feet 

and swinging through the screen door 

to eat with the people they love

December already?

That's what everyone else says.

People ask us at the end 

of every year

to reflect on these last twelve months

that have changed us.

And I honestly never know

what to say.

I don't remember many of the

highs, or the lows.

I remember some of my most joyous moments,

that brought excitement and sparkling eyes,

but most of the lows,

I seem to forget.

And maybe that's a good thing,

but I want to have something to reflect on.

Sure, I could reminisce on my best days,

my happiest memories,

of 2025,

but I want to remember the things

I've overcome,

the ways I've improved myself

that will be noticeable

deep into 2026.

So back to the inevitable question

that's asked at the end of every year,

How would you reflect on this year?

I would say it was a mix

of good and bad,

like any other year.

It brought firsts,

both people and experiences,

like any other year.

But a whole reflection?

I don't think that's something I could do,

but that'd be with any year.

2025 is no different, it's just another year to me,

and it definitely wasn't my best,

but it was one step closer to

the fresh start I need

in 2026.

Tonight, stars are falling,

Over Chicago, New England, Texas,

From angry east to angry west,

Dark cars: hearses that we don't call hearses

Roll silently towards lively, warm houses,

And as they roll away,

The stars fall away,

And the sky is black

People, bright spots! 

Crowd the streets! Block the hearse! 

Populate the dark earth, so that our reflection in the night sky

Will be twice as bright as any stars ever could be. 

reminds me of crows billowing, in the middle of the day when I can see their wings

of snow and christmastime, falling bright orange or blue, covering shadows

watching it all from up high

mumbling something deep and once I thought you were a wizard

bear in the big forest and craggy franconia rock, the top of it

                 of the first few seconds before you cry, breathless choke

 numb          blush

red sweaters quiet sleeves, dawn on the shoulder of the night, 

night holding morning,

cleaning the sand off the river rock, shines in the daytime 

millions of years of dirt under nails, lavender glistening in spicy sugar

and it felt like memories of my mother

so softly smiling in kodak alaska

                                    singing in the hills

The tides still ebb

The sun still rises

The trees still grow

My curls are longer now.

We have a new president new governors

Different colors speckling made up maps

Division.

I sit with new people

At lunch

Tell new stories

Around the dinner table.

I got a new puffy coat.

But so far, 

The tides still flow

The sun still sets

The trees still wither

My hair stays curly.