Time to Feel, Time to Grieve

I’m scared. I’m stripped. I’m angry. I’m proud. I’m defenseless. I’m stupefied. I’m insignificant. I’m struck. I’m happy. I’m lucky. I’m grateful. I’m shocked. I’m at a loss. I’m anxious. I’m speechless. I’m dumbfounded. I’m pissed. I’m outraged. I’m bloodthirsty. I’m sorry. I’m depressed. I’m empty. I’m lifeless. I’m hopeful. I’m hopeless. I’m terrified. I’m shamed. I’m raped. I’m helpless. I’m blind. I’m alone. I’m surrounded. I’m screaming. I’m silent. I’m all. I’m nothing. I’m human. I’m female. I’m young. I’m American. (I wrote this for my college English course.)

Tiffany Cole

Los Angeles

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Have we the people of the U.S. learned anything? Are we incredulous not to be free to fly our airplanes, to walk the streets or into buildings without security checks and to be questioned about our loyalties? Do our emotions wrench in pain and sorrow over the gruesome deaths of those we love? Are we bitterly angry over phantom enemies we as citizens have little means, if any, to combat? Have we learned to know the fear and terror our friends in other countries have known for centuries? Have we realized our land, our country, our freedoms should never again by taken for granted?

Shirley Osborn

Los Angeles

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Land of the free?

Barbara Rosenstein

Los Angeles