Friday, November 8, 2019

Free Essays on Outsidedoesnt Matter

The Outside Doesn’t Really Matter Two backyards, both filled with the same laughter, In Ames, where we regress to preschoolers. From toddler hood to now, we have to play. Where different races don’t exclude. We play from the break of morning, To the emptiness of nighttime. Our moms yell for us, â€Å"Just one more minute, pleeeease!!!!† â€Å"Tomorrow,† she says, we can’t wait that long! We both go to bed the same way. We look out our glass-pained windows, Waved to one another from so far away, We close our eyes just waiting for tomorrow. We play with anyone, no matter what they look like, Why can’t our parents be more like us? Prologue Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay out scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes, A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life, Whose misadventured piteous overthrows Doth with their death bury their parents’ rage, Which, but their children’s end, naught could remove, Is now the two hours’ traffic of our stage, The which if you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.... Free Essays on Outsidedoesn't Matter Free Essays on Outsidedoesn't Matter The Outside Doesn’t Really Matter Two backyards, both filled with the same laughter, In Ames, where we regress to preschoolers. From toddler hood to now, we have to play. Where different races don’t exclude. We play from the break of morning, To the emptiness of nighttime. Our moms yell for us, â€Å"Just one more minute, pleeeease!!!!† â€Å"Tomorrow,† she says, we can’t wait that long! We both go to bed the same way. We look out our glass-pained windows, Waved to one another from so far away, We close our eyes just waiting for tomorrow. We play with anyone, no matter what they look like, Why can’t our parents be more like us? Prologue Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay out scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes, A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life, Whose misadventured piteous overthrows Doth with their death bury their parents’ rage, Which, but their children’s end, naught could remove, Is now the two hours’ traffic of our stage, The which if you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend....

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.