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PalmLeaf

Thailand

An aspiring writer chiseling away at her block.
With a toothpick.
Also I'm a Ravenclaw. Go Claws!

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Young (small)

January 10, 2019

FREE WRITING

2
Youth is wasted on the young. Isn't that right?

Dear youths, do you not realize this wonderful gift you have been given, this gift with an expiry date?

Haven't you ever felt as though your strength, your relevance, your practically undepleted supply of life, would be better placed in the hands of those who knew what they'd do with it? What they WOULD do, if they had your YOUTH?

After all, it is not you who will change the world.

Dear youths, put your youth in a box and dump it outside the double doors of a crumbling building. It will be well taken care of.

You may look back later and wonder where it is now. Could it be in one of those gray lockers that line the hallway, or locked away in the glass case full of shiny cups and sparkling blocks?

It doesn't matter. There are other people that need it more than you do. People who had their youths stolen from them and are now forced to watch you waste yours, waste it on loudness and laughter and individuality.

One day you, too, will understand. 



    But youth is not something that can be given away. Shouldn't you know that by now? Dear wisemen, do you not understand that youth is a gift to those who don't deserve it? Like a shower of rain on a full, brimming lake. We treasure this gift; we don't want to waste it. We want to keep it close to our beings for as long as you will allow us to, but one day we will give it up. We will give it up, perhaps sooner than you would like us to. Please don't blame us when we do. Please don't call us ungrateful. Do you not remember when your youth felt like a bag of rocks, and you left it behind so you could fly? Fly now. We do not have your wings. One day we will be ready for them, and we will gladly leave our youth behind, but for now, show us how to use them. Will you spread your wings and soar above the clouds ,and tell us what you see? Or will you fold your wings and dive, pecking at us as we duck and hide? Dear wisemen, we do not want to steal the world from you. We want to know our youth will not become a bag of rocks that must be cast away if we want to change the world. Dear wisemen, we are asking permission to change the world. Our wings are growing, but they are weak, and some of us may never fly because they won't know how to. Dear wisemen, we are not asking for privilege. Privilege is a concrete wall that barricades us from you. We are not asking for your rights, we are not asking for your riches. Please don't ask us for things we cannot deliver.

Dear wisemen.

Don't you think it is wisdom that is wasted on the old?

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  • January 10, 2019 - 9:57am (Now Viewing)

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