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Breathing Yet Not Living

Written by Shreya Venkatachalam, 14

From Texas, USA

This sphere that encompasses us

Is one of swirling green and blue from the outside.

“The only green orb!”

Many say and praise it,

But those pounding on the

Invisible glass of the sphere

To be released,

To be let go of,

Only know the hidden,

And not so hidden

Shadows of thick black

That hang in the atmosphere

Like a heavy bog.

And oh how those that see this fog

Wish it gone.

Oh how those that see this fog,

Those who slave over the fields

To feed their babies,

Those who blink away their sleep

To earn a place in this world,

Those who are forced to cower at the fists

That push them down each time they stand up,

Oh how those women yearn

To change this world

So they too have the chance

To see the swirling green and blue

With their own roaming eyes,

With their chin tilted up.

Oh how those women yearn

To demolish the looming smog

So they too can

Feel the rustle of grass and crashing of waves

With their feet up,

With their hands free of shackles.

Oh how those women yearn

To also be in this sphere the others rejoice,

And be a part of it.

To be respected in it.

To be acknowledged in it.

Oh how those women sit in the disgusting smoke

They are cursed with,

To spend minute after tormenting minute


Yet not living.

Only continuing for this dream,

This craving to be set free

From their captor,

To be able to finally change

This world so they too matter.

So that they too are seen without

The toxic fumes greedily hiding

What they represent:



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