Published Nov 14th, 2015, 11/14/15 3:01 pm
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Do we still stand tall?
Even though today might not be the day, will you still remember? Will you remember the great times they’ve had over a table they thought had existed, or the fierce times fighting against their own kind? Are you just happy for this day, for it serves you a day off, and maybe you really just don’t care for the freedom they’ve fought for you, for now it’s yours and no one else’s?
Will we remember? Will we remember their names and their words that they’ve traded over for someone else’s freedom, no not their own, but another’s. They’ve killed and murdered what had only been living on another side of this world that we now share and call our own just so that you--just so that us, the future generations of this part of the world has something to be proud of. Yet you—yet us, we can’t even relate or come close to the fields of emotions they have travelled through. Incomparable to these things we find bothersome—these chores. Their screams over their dead and dying friends is suddenly so comparable to our screams when our tools die. All though many people will say that they care proudly, I doubt that they remember what it meant, and I am able to sadly say, that I've forgotten too what they've done no matter how many times it'll ring into my ear.
Only 3 days late... not bad.
Even though today might not be the day, will you still remember? Will you remember the great times they’ve had over a table they thought had existed, or the fierce times fighting against their own kind? Are you just happy for this day, for it serves you a day off, and maybe you really just don’t care for the freedom they’ve fought for you, for now it’s yours and no one else’s?
Will we remember? Will we remember their names and their words that they’ve traded over for someone else’s freedom, no not their own, but another’s. They’ve killed and murdered what had only been living on another side of this world that we now share and call our own just so that you--just so that us, the future generations of this part of the world has something to be proud of. Yet you—yet us, we can’t even relate or come close to the fields of emotions they have travelled through. Incomparable to these things we find bothersome—these chores. Their screams over their dead and dying friends is suddenly so comparable to our screams when our tools die. All though many people will say that they care proudly, I doubt that they remember what it meant, and I am able to sadly say, that I've forgotten too what they've done no matter how many times it'll ring into my ear.
Only 3 days late... not bad.
| Gender | Male |
| Format | Java |
| Model | Steve |
tools/tracking
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