Although still bound, to some extent, ropes have loosened for our daughters. A growing force that won't relent, we are testing deeper waters.
True we've yet to balance the scale, but we see, at least, it totters. In time parity will prevail. We are testing deeper waters.
I wish Ms. Anthony could see - the life we live now is not hers. but close to one she dreamed could be. We are testing deeper waters.
Although still bound, to some extent, we are testing deeper waters.
A Kyrielle - a 14 line poem with 8 syllables per line. The rhyme scheme is AbaB cbcB dbdB AB, which means the last line repeats and the first and last lines of the first stanza are the last two lines of the poem.
Once upon a time, that boy, he was a friend of mine. Our backyards, borderless. His house was mine, mine his, as if we were brothers.
Once upon a time, that boy, he was a friend of mine. Same classes, same sports, same teams. He, a little better at baseball, me, at soccer. Neither of us showed any promise in football. He struggled with school. I did what I could to help him out.
Once upon a time, that boy, he was a friend of mine until high school happened and we no longer shared any classes. Until my own studying, baseball and piano practices and participation on the math competition team left me little free time to help him out. Until academic performance kept him off the baseball team. Until the fence went up around our backyard and entrance into each other's house required knocking. Until his dad left.
Once upon a time, that boy, he was a friend of mine, but then he was put in the Alternate Program because he missed too many days of school and failed several classes, so I heard. But then he found new brothers and together they discovered ways to cope with the pressures of high school, of life, so I heard.
Yes, once upon a time, that boy, - that boy who died of "unexpected causes," (so I read) - he was a friend of mine.
What shallow minds consider birth to be the measure of their worth? If skin and looks are all you see, what narrow vision must there be? How can we make this country great when those within are filled with hate?