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April 13, 2012
I want to live those moments,
Live them how they were,
Not how they were written.
I don’t want to know Lincoln’s words.
I want to feel them on my skin.
It’s not fair that I learned
All the cold, hard facts,
When there was so much more to it.
I don’t want to know where the Pilgrims went,
I want to know the cut of starvation.
And do not tell me the tale of our independence,
Put me right in the middle of it.
I want my screams of freedom heard.
I won’t know our history till I’ve lived it.
© Conor G., Harvard, MA
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