Young Writers Society

Hi Jewel_!

Short, sweet, and to the point. A beautiful description and view of youth and old age. I totally agree with you!
Just a few quick grammar points and thoughts.

As her walking stick fell, she bent down slowly and carefully. Afraid that if she moved to fast she would fall, and well she may not be able to get back up. As her hand brushed the wood of the walking stick in an attempt to pick it up she noticed something.

How happiness filled her with warmth, and she has memories tainted with sadness that made her think she wouldn't wake the next day.

Everyone around her could see that the marks and wrinkles weren't there to remind her of her age, instead, they were supposed to remind her of all the precious memories she made.

"Youth is a feeling not a phase of your life."

Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),

Hi! I'm here to leave what looks like its going to be a super short review for this super short piece...but anyway I'll try to comment in as much detail as I can.

First Impression: This was a really fun read and I think the message that this is trying to convey is really useful as well. It's a really good story that you've got right here. I mean its not really story but its nice to read.

Anyway let's get right to it,

As her walking stick fell, she bent down slowly and carefully. Afraid that if she moved to fast she would fall, and well she may not be able to get back up. As her hand brushed the wood of the walking stick in an attempt to pick it up she noticed something. Her hands had developed many wrinkles, more then you could count, her skin was no longer tight and her veins were easy to see.

"I have lost my youth," she thought to herself when she managed to grab the walking stick.

However, she didn't realise that she carried her youth with her. All the memories that only she can experience and remember. How happiness filled her with warmth, and she has memories tainted with sadness that made her think she wouldn't wake the next day.

Everyone around her could see that the marks and wrinkles weren't there to remind her of her age, instead, they were supposed to remind her of all the precious memories she made.

Hey there, stygianmoon17 here for a review <3

First off, this poem..? kinda..?? reminds me so much of a poem by general MacArthur if I remember correctly. it goes something like

"Youth is not a period of life.

It is a state of mind, an effect of the will,

a quality of the imagination: an emotional intensity.

A victory of courage over shyness,

from the taste of adventure to the love of comfort.

You don't get old for having lived a certain number of years:

we become old because we have deserted our ideal."

And I totally agree with you both !
I mean I'm not of the age to complain of being old already, far from it actually, but it is true I've seen a number of people that were like 90 years old and living life to the fullest everyday. Instead of complaining and staying in their homes all day and saying how their lives before were better and how the world has become a dangerous place to live in. Or their favourite, that "technology is taking over making friends and the world."
But this is just such a perfect text I have nothing to say about it, and I just can't wait to read more from you <3

Hey there! This is really well written! I totally agree with the idea that while we age, we can still choose to be young, and that our youth doesn't really ever leave us, just as nothing leaves us as long as we have the memories of the things of the past! I really liked how short this is, but if you wanted to make it longer, I think that you could go more in detail to the aging of her hands, add age spots, scars with corresponding memories, calluses made and forgotten, things like that. But only if you want to!