Dear whoever gets this letter,

The world is never the place my grandfather lived in

For we never want to know the reality,

Of poverty, that is seizing the unknown,

But enriching the greedy.

Of suffering, since we are not the ones.

Of brutality, as we don’t have firsthand experience

Of being beaten by your husband

Of having little children losing their childhood.

You would think this is an ode.

I would say it is a eulogy.

I had the weirdest day today. And this was the weirdest one I have ever written. Or probably too much of studying zoology and Riverdale has clogged my brains into sadness. Pari and I are attempting these together. These prompts are being hosted by Tyler Kent White and Amanda Torroni.

 

 

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