my first time here. freewrite...

the child is raised in the shadow of innocence looming over her misguided youth. misdirection. the real infection is the lack of seeds that never get sown, let alone penetrate the cold concrete. now that's a global disaster. an epidemic both social and systemic. she sets off on her daily trek to get her mind fed and it always feels like the sun had just set. tattered dance shoes with the broken soles gliding feverishly across the unpaved road. broken soles passed down by her ate to match her outdated hand me down uniform. she'll grow into it, right? but will she ever grow into intellectualism or a handful of western dreams? will she ever fix her broken soul(es)? or teach her unborn children to get their mind fed? too premature to say. they say she waits for revolution to come. a silent but fierce storm brewing in the skies. if you close your eyes on the clearest day, you can hear it coming. pulsating. a silent celebration aching to reveal. before she reaches her destination, she takes a moment to acknowledge the shine. closes her eyes and raises them to kiss the sun. "one more day," she says. "one more day."