Children of the Shadows, they called us. Children who spend their time in graveyards and junkyards, finding rainbows in puddles of gasoline and transforming broken shopping carts into racing cars.
Children of the Night, they called us. Children who darted about after the sun went down, stealing your lawn gnomes to add to our collection and taking food from your refrigerators.
Children of the Gypsies, we were, as we forged friendships with the forests where we set up our caravans and survived off of what we could take from the locals. We brought shame onto the village, the small town, as our dirty fingers and tangled hair contaminated their school yards. We were faced with sneers and scorn as we paraded proudly about without shoes and shook our heads to make our gold hoop earrings jingle.
We were Children, though. We were only young and we were faced with parents who couldn't read, homes that stood on four wagon wheels, countries who wanted us dead, and human beings who saw us as nothing more than a waste of space.
We were Children. We were innocent.
You're a very powerful writer.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed this post. You know? Its hard to explain why.
This is really good. Wow. (:
ReplyDeleteI just found your blog off of the comments for the wjdkyy competition & I love it. I wish I had your writing skills. You're so amazingly good. I'm a bit embarrassed to have submitted an entry after having read everyone else's entries, especially this one.
ReplyDeletexo, Sophia