I shouldn’t be writing this..
In this world..I am the only one who decides to remember.
My grandparents have told me the stories.
The stories of when we were free.
There was culture.
Everyone was an individual.
There were races, religions, and creeds.
Now..we are all one.
No races, or religions.
We are not allowed to write.
We cannot sing.
Only the elders are allowed to do so.
They say the elders must let their cultures die with them.
My grandfather is probably in his late 90s
We are unsure of my grandmas age, we suspect here to be the same as well.
They are slowly forgetting..
They speak of the times..the great times.
A world where we could have opinions, no matter how twisted they might’ve been.
A world without opinions, is a world left to die.
For facts are too plain, and opinions offer seasoning.
My name is Jaylen
I am a sixteen year old, male.
This is my story..
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