When I Was Young

Tue, 04/08/2014 - 18:24 -- AmyLeya

When I was young
I was under the impression 
That the world was peaceful
And everything was fine, alright, okay

Okay is a stronger word than we know
It means everything is perfect
Or at least getting better
It means there is peace

When I was young
I didn't understand the act of terrorism that occured
Nine days before my birth
The tragedy that knocked down two buildings
And killed nearly 3,000 innocent people
I didn't understand the legacy of dictators and tyrants
That I was so lucky to be safe from
I didn't realize that there was still evil
Always evil

But how was I supposed to know?

How was my young, budding imagination supposed to predict
That there were people out there
Who could kill and injure the innocent runners of the Boston Marathon
And go to sleep at night

How was I supposed to know?

How was I expected to comprehend
That people born with different cultures, skin colors, beliefs, and sexual orientations
Couldn't just live in harmony

How was I supposed to know?

How was I supposed to understand
That there are people out there
Even ones my age
That are willing to push other kids to the limits of their lives so soon

I didn't know

But now I do
I've learned things the hard ways
The easy ways
The little too early ways
The little too late ways
The ways that involved my suffering
The ways that forced me to watch the suffering of others

The ways that taught me that lives can be ended as quickly as a light can be turned off with a switch on the wall
Just like that
The ways that showed me that families can be broken as easily as a ceramic pot pushed over the edge of the counter
The ways that made me believe that every voice is like a song and too many people aren't willing to listen
The ways that made me understand that life is a game of chance and each person has the power to choose how we will win
If at all

And now I know

I know that life won't always be okay
And sometimes we won't be able to understand
And sometimes we'll feel like the walls are closing in and the floors are going to give out and we're going to have no choice but to give in
But I've finally learned that we always have a choice
That life is a game of chance, a light switch on the wall, a song ready to be heard, a ceramic pot just tipping over the edge
And it is our choice whether we are going to be shut down, silenced, shattered

Or the first and only winner of our own game of chance


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