By Emma Hudak, TIWP Student
I wish I lived in the 1800’s.
Back when young women got to sit at home and knit
without a care in the world.
Riding horses on the French countryside with a sister
and talking about tonight’s ball.
Staying up all night, writing by candlelight.
Picnics in the garden.
Walking around the village square, going gown shopping.
Summer spent in the country with a distant cousin.
Men coming to your house with flowers
and courting you without you having to lift a finger.
Writing in your diary on the front porch in a rocking chair,
wind blowing in the sunset.
Opera houses and beach days with your favorite aunt.
Carelessly wandering your father’s in-house library,
running your fingers across the dusty spines of brown book.
I wished I lived in the 1970’s.
Flared jeans and taking your young nieces to women’s rights protests.
Road trips in an old van.
70’s style homes and I Love Lucy on for TV dinners.
Barbecues and block parties with neighbors.
Writing on the sidewalk with chalk with a sibling in the late afternoon.
Lemonade and pool parties and summer.
I wish I lived in the 1990’s.
Tube tops and Lindsey Lohan.
Talking on a spiral cord phone and everything pink and rhinestoned.
MTV and rom-coms.
Skateboarding by the beach in LA.
Riding in the car with Michael Jackson blasting on the radio.
House parties and red cups.
Painting nails with friends and trips to the mall.
To me, the past will always be better than the present.