Freewrite August 2014

I am wise and old

I wonder what has become of the outside world

I hear babies crying

I see children frolicking in the grass

I am aged and knowing

I pretend I live in the outside world

I feel strong emotions

I touch the softness of rose petals

I worry about generations to come who will not feel true feelings

I cry about the sorrows of the world before communities

I am wise and old

I understand that the present government is oppressive

I say the worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It's the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared

I dream that one day we can return to the world before communities

I try to contain the memories of the past

I hope one day we can live as before

I am wise and old

from the giver

by Jaya Touma Shoatz