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Jun 2019
i.
graduation feels a little like tripping, a little like falling, a little like flying. for thirteen years our only job was to do what our teachers told us, learn what they taught us, shut up and sit still and listen when they were talking. we wrote pages and pages and pages on historical significance and environmental responsibility and socio-economic balances, all the while thinking to ourselves what does any of this have to do with me? and now the future whispers across our shoulders while we sit in parallel rows wearing identical black gowns it has everything to do with you.

ii.
half of us dont know what we are doing or what it is going to be like where we are going, or if we are even going to make it, but each of us are filled with a new fire that ripples under our skin like power, like a song, like the secrets of the universe murmuring come find me, children of hope, children of madness. because we have to be mad to believe we can change anything, we have to have a little bit of crazy to make a change. lucky for us, we are plenty insane, ready to shape the world under hands of benevolence and tolerance and innovation and freedom and hope.

iii.
they tell us we are the future, but theyre not entirely correct. what they tend to forget is that we are also the present, and we are already picking up their pieces to make a new mosaic in the shape of humanity’s rebirth.

h.f.m.
Hannah Marr
Written by
Hannah Marr  19/F/Canada
(19/F/Canada)   
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