by Amietee Fuondjing, Guest Contributor

The following post is a contribution from a member of the Creative Writing Club.


I sat listening to the stories my elders told

Old teaches young so young can kill old

The young puts up a wall when the elders start to scold

The old just wants to hand the game off without fear of fumble

But the young is impatient so they whine and they grumble

The old wants to say sometimes it’s okay to be humble

But the young doesn’t want to hear it

The young is strong and the young is fearless

And all the problems that the young hasn’t dealt with now the old has to bear it


For that reason I paid attention to what my elders spoke

Old teaches young but the young just gets provoked

Because the young thinks they’re above it all like apartment smoke

But not me I loved it all from the drama to the jokes

The old had stories that could run from Alabama to New York

The old taught values like when to listen and when to talk

The old said before you learn to run you have to learn to walk

So respect your old heads

To resurrect your old heads

The old lives through the young so the old is never dead


So when you sit to listen to the stories your elders tell

Listen very closely and listen well

We are the seeds our elders have plucked and sown

And it won’t be too long before you’re sitting across from a young of your own