I was overwhelmed with how happy and excited all our cousins were to spend the summer with us.
Tim was the oldest of them, and was my age. His face was a bit frightening, with glaring hazel eyes, runaway red hair, freckles, and his height. Plus, he had a bit of an underbite.
Jess was the اگلے oldest, maybe a سال یا two below me. She always reminded me of an angel, with her soft blonde curls, big blue eyes, dimples, and optimisitc outlook.
Joey was Jess's twin brother. He looked barely anything like her, with his dark hair falling in his equally dark eyes. He even acted differently from her.
Isaac was 11, the same age as Claire. He had boring brown hair matched with green eyes, catlike.
Amelia was 10. She had fiery red hair like Tim, but she had peculiar blue eyes that seemed almost purple. She was painfully shy, so shy I often wondered if she was afraid of her own shadow.
Makayla was the youngest at 6. She was so silly and carefree and was nice to everyone.
Then there was me, plain old Sadie, with my plain سٹرابیری, اسٹرابیری blonde hair that grew down my back and my gray eyes. Tall and skinny and pale. That was me. Blended into any crowd.
Claire was made similarly to me, tall and skinny with long hair. But her hair was curly and black, and she had sparkling blue eyes. I felt so out of place. But I told myself, Sadie, it will only be a short time. This is your family. Relax.
Tim was the oldest of them, and was my age. His face was a bit frightening, with glaring hazel eyes, runaway red hair, freckles, and his height. Plus, he had a bit of an underbite.
Jess was the اگلے oldest, maybe a سال یا two below me. She always reminded me of an angel, with her soft blonde curls, big blue eyes, dimples, and optimisitc outlook.
Joey was Jess's twin brother. He looked barely anything like her, with his dark hair falling in his equally dark eyes. He even acted differently from her.
Isaac was 11, the same age as Claire. He had boring brown hair matched with green eyes, catlike.
Amelia was 10. She had fiery red hair like Tim, but she had peculiar blue eyes that seemed almost purple. She was painfully shy, so shy I often wondered if she was afraid of her own shadow.
Makayla was the youngest at 6. She was so silly and carefree and was nice to everyone.
Then there was me, plain old Sadie, with my plain سٹرابیری, اسٹرابیری blonde hair that grew down my back and my gray eyes. Tall and skinny and pale. That was me. Blended into any crowd.
Claire was made similarly to me, tall and skinny with long hair. But her hair was curly and black, and she had sparkling blue eyes. I felt so out of place. But I told myself, Sadie, it will only be a short time. This is your family. Relax.
When will this end?
Mass shootings
Terrorist attacks
Police brutality
They say it's just a gun control problem
They say it cannot be fixed
I say the problem is deeper
I say there is hope
When will this end?
Income inequality
Veterans living on the streets, penniless,
Dying سے طرف کی their own hands every day.
Some say they will make America better
But nothing has changed...
And I truly do fear
Nothing ever will
When will love start?
The دن we offer a hand to the fallen
Instead of cringing back in shock
And running away
When will our world change?
The دن we love too much to kill
The دن others' pain becomes our pain
The دن we act instead of just talking about it
"It's impossible"
"We're too broken to be mended"
"It's a hopeless battle"
Yes, it's hard, but let us try.
Mass shootings
Terrorist attacks
Police brutality
They say it's just a gun control problem
They say it cannot be fixed
I say the problem is deeper
I say there is hope
When will this end?
Income inequality
Veterans living on the streets, penniless,
Dying سے طرف کی their own hands every day.
Some say they will make America better
But nothing has changed...
And I truly do fear
Nothing ever will
When will love start?
The دن we offer a hand to the fallen
Instead of cringing back in shock
And running away
When will our world change?
The دن we love too much to kill
The دن others' pain becomes our pain
The دن we act instead of just talking about it
"It's impossible"
"We're too broken to be mended"
"It's a hopeless battle"
Yes, it's hard, but let us try.
Newly born
Squeals
Pitifully
A tiny voice raised high
Going nowhere
Confined
Confused
A single spot on the page
Then
It grows
And walks in waves and braves the کڑوا, تلخ wind
Shakily on its spindly legs, it smudges the paper
Singing its first tune
A tiny tune
Twirling and whirling
It grows taller
And tougher
With every beat of its half-grown heart
It grows
Joined سے طرف کی others
They sing together
A forgotten voice
A reflection
Of lost symphonies
Tooting their trumpets
They stand to attention
An army of discord
Marching forth
Into a brand new dawn
Squeals
Pitifully
A tiny voice raised high
Going nowhere
Confined
Confused
A single spot on the page
Then
It grows
And walks in waves and braves the کڑوا, تلخ wind
Shakily on its spindly legs, it smudges the paper
Singing its first tune
A tiny tune
Twirling and whirling
It grows taller
And tougher
With every beat of its half-grown heart
It grows
Joined سے طرف کی others
They sing together
A forgotten voice
A reflection
Of lost symphonies
Tooting their trumpets
They stand to attention
An army of discord
Marching forth
Into a brand new dawn
