Remember the Freedom Givers

I wrote this a long time ago and as I was rereading it I was constantly making corrections in my head. However I left it exactly as little fourteen year old me wrote it. I memorized and then performed this piece for my middle school debate competition. It's not the best work I've done but there is a lot of heart and meaning to it. I hope you take the time to reflect and remember those service men and women. It's a little after midnight so it's not veterans day anymore which is just as well. We shouldn't only remember them on a few choice days of the year. 

Original Oratory
Topic: Remember the freedom givers.
By: Aubrianna Hockett June 1, 2008
Dedicated to Mr. Whitson,

Thanks for giving me my freedom. I really appreciate it.

            Have you ever thought about those heroes that died for our freedom? Have you ever thanked their mothers for raising heroes? Have you ever thanked their fathers for telling them they could accomplish anything that they put their mind to? Have you ever even thought about how lucky you are for living in a free country? Have you ever thanked those people who have recurring nightmares of the horrors of war? Do you ever think about these people on days that aren’t set aside for their remembrance?

            War is not glorious. War is not divine. War is hideous and simply ridiculous. Death is not merciful, death is not kind. Death is greedy and ruthless. The nightmares of war never really go away. They are always there deep in your mind. The veterans of wars relive battles each and every day. Not many people in this world have the stomach to take another human’s life. Fewer yet can watch someone’s life slowly slip away and do nothing to help them. Napoleon Bonaparte once said that “it requires more courage to suffer than to die”. I know that it takes even more courage to watch someone else suffer than to suffer yourself. War is definitely not kind.

            What is courage, is it the ability to fight, to hurt someone, is it standing up for what you believe in, is it being not afraid? What is courage? “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear” Ambrose Redmoon. I can guarantee you that anyone who was ever in a battle was scared to death if they weren’t they were later. So does that make them no longer heroes because they were afraid? No, it makes them even more heroic because they could see that something was more important than their own life their own fear.

            Does anyone who has never been to a third world country really understand the freedom that we have in this country? The freedom that we have in this country is amazing. Do we ever thank those veterans that fought for our freedom? How many Americans can honestly say that they thank those veterans every day? I know that I can’t remember those heroes and thank them for everything that they did. It would be absurd if we the people in a free land could not even remember the people who gave us our freedom. The next time that you sing the words “and the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave o’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!”, the last words of our national anthem written by Francis Scott Key, remember that the brave are still around to thank in person.

            Just think if every person in the United States took ten minutes of their day to humbly do something for those veterans and their families in thanks, what would we be like as a nations? As a state? As a city? As a school? As a family? As individuals? The whole world would benefit from it. If we just sit down for ten minutes, ten minutes a day and think about and thank those heroes for what they did I know that they would hear us. And that they would know that they fought for a reason. The reason of freedom. Remember, everything that we have the privilege to do, is because, of the freedom givers.

November 8th

I hate having to reach down deep inside of myself

Trying to find that one glimmer of motivation

I hate searching for hours

For the courage to get out of bed

I hate letting my mind wander

Down the dark paths

Why can’t I write about happy things

Normal people things

Why can’t I make myself care

Even a little bit

Why can’t I shake this off

And pull myself out of it

Am I the only one who feels this blankness

Dull and empty blank nothingness

Am I the only one who hears the voices

Of the evil merciless parts of myself

Am I the only one who sees life

As a chore

November 8, 2014

Ordinarily Unique

It's amazing how much teenage angst I can still feel as I reread this poem. But isn't that what makes it so great!?

Ordinarily Unique

No one knows who I am

No one’s even guessing

I almost know who I want to be

Then again no one wants me to be her

They all have their own ideas and plans

Of who I am and who I am to become

But they are all wrong I am none of those girls

I am a little bit of each

I am seriously hyper

I am quietly outspoken

I am impressively strong and gentle

I am rash and thoughtful

I am happily distressed

I have improperly perfect decorum

I am strangely normal

I am simply complicated

I am ordinarily unique

I may not be what you think I should

But I am who I am

And I can’t

No won’t

Change that

May 9, 2009

I Will Conquer

I have had a rough couple of days, with school and work and friends. I felt like I was failing at life, but then I remembered this poem. I wrote it when I was having a really hard time and just like now I want to tell the world that I am in charge. 

I Will Conquer

Who’s to say I’ll ever get over this

Who’s to say I’m going to be whole one day

Who’s to say I will amount to anything

Who’s to say I won’t be swallowed up by my own fears

Who’s to say I won’t just fall to pieces

Who’s to say I will heal from these scars

Who’s to say life will get better

Who’s to say I will stop crying

Who’s to say my hurt isn’t real

I say I will never get over this

That crying is the only remedy

I have been trying, and trying to make it better

Why not just give up

Why do people think the bravery in me will overcome this fear

It won’t,

But if it does I will decide not anyone else

Who’s to say I won’t be my own savior

Who’s to say I won’t put myself back together

Who’s to say I won’t learn to love myself

Who’s to say this wasn’t meant to happen

Who’s to say I won’t learn from these scars

Who’s to say I won’t be loved unconditionally

Who’s to say I won’t break through and conquer all

Who’s to say one day I won’t be thankful for all this hurt

No one

I am in control of my life

Whether I let it fall to pieces

Or let it change the world for the better

I will conquer my fears

And be the savior of my life

I will, this is the first step

And who’s to say anything

February 19, 2009

The Woman in the Stone

 
I love this poem, I tried to get a lot of imagery in it so I hope as you read it you will see it in your mind. 

The Woman in the Stone

The sheet tumbles to the floor
Exposing a mammoth block of stone
This piece of rock will win the award
If only he knew what it was
Slowly and purposely he brings out
Chisels, hammers and stones
They line up like regiments
Ready to follow the master
Retreating to far corners of the room
He watches the light play and dance
On the invisible features

A pool of shadow collects at the feet

A single shaft of light spotlights

The crest of a brow

The blank block of stone is no longer what he sees

He sees the shape of perfection

The woman in the stone

Slowly she emerges from her prison

With his hammer and chisel

He thrusts aside the rock

Leaving a woman in its place

A lady he has seen in his dreams

As a child

As a boy

And now as a man

The mother he never knew

He had sculpted her hundreds of times

Each different from the last

This one a true masterpiece

He just wished he knew her name…

May 1, 2011

Rain

I found this little guy buried deep within the depths of my computer files. I think I wrote this as an exercise in my poetry class. I thought it was applicable for today.

Rain

Today the heavens opened

My skin excites at the trickle of rain

Pools of moisture gather in my hands

In my palms I hold drops of the heavens

The sound of rain hitting the roof echo across the glen

Soft grass mutes the harsh drumming of water

With my ears turned towards the sky

I hear the rhythm of angels

September 23, 2010

Phone Call

Phone Call

Missed call from Papa Bear

Call me, the text said

Clocked out

Walking home 

Hey what's up Dad?

Are you done with everything today?

*Deja vu*

I've had this conversation before

276 days ago

The day my world stopped

I know what's coming and yet

I'm still shocked when it's revealed

...hospital...awhile...passed away...morning

What!? 

This can't be happening again

*Deja vu*

Walking home alone

Darkness surrounds me

suffocating the light of the world

my world stopped

can't breathe

...the circle of life

better place...

it's over

not even a year

and they're both gone

the first drop escapes

floodgates open

feelings, emotions

I want to bury, want it to stop

hurting

*Deja vu* 

it hasn't stopped, won't stop

...gets easier

not yet

that call brought it all back

that cold snowy December night

one day shy of two decades

same lost little girl

what's a granddaughter without grandparents? 

September 18, 2014

I'm not sure if this is done, it's all too raw. But hopefully it does them justice. I miss them both, I still can't believe my dad lost them just 276 days apart. Can't believe I lost them. However the scales are not unbalanced. As we loose, God gains. And today He gained a great man. I love you Grandpa.