Plastic
By dramaqueen88
Their shiny gold wing tips reached towards the sky, the smooth wood struture gave everyone the illusion of something else, until they reached out to find that it was plastic. Glistening brass plates glowed in the artificial light, and a year was blazoned across the front. This plastic, is a beacon to us. It's more than a synthetic substance. It is a moment, time, caprured inside of it. It is a legend. It is a tradition. It is a reminder of what came before. It had names inscribed on it that they never knew and never will know, names of people who have a PhD, or kids, or both by now. This plastic, however big or small, is someone's result of hours of long work, of ultimate sacrifice. It is someone's heart and soul, pride and joy, someone's one single shining moment of victory. It is someone's outcry to us to not make their work have been in vain, and because of this, the plastic itself is worthless. Written November 10th, 2001 © on Nov 10 2001 09:25 AM PST 0 • 10
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"Their shiny gold wing tips reached towards the sky,..."