Delicate Deliquency

One should never ask.  They are too  young and fragile, carefree yet sensitive,  constrained yet full of hopes and dreams.

Within the hustle and bustle of  the city blocks lies a penitentiary for the juvenile in conflict with the law. Congested in an urban setting: concrete walkways, rusted iron grilles, dilapidated facility where  splashes of grays, blacks, and browns washes the scene,it is mundane, and perhaps unhygienic. But it is the home for these children for about weeks to months depending on the gravity of the crime committed. Actions are limited, bounded by walls and rules- these are the consequences they have to face. Yet they are too young.

Meet these children. They are just some of those teens constrained within these facility. Aged about 14-18 years old. They are  timid and for about  once in a while a smile or laugh would scrimp their faces. Tattoos mark their bodies. They may look tough and all, yet inside of them is a child crying for an embrace of warmth care and attention especially from their own family.

They are molding a dough, with their sense of touch, feel, and smell. Play-doh is soft. It can be beautiful or it can be otherwise.Unlike other materials such as metal, it is open for mistakes, since it can be easily redone.

But what really matters is the hand and heart coordination.To shape something that best describe what they felt that time.  Some maybe too literal, but others are quite abstract, artistic, and profound to their thoughts and feelings. They  maybe too young yet they know what brought them in such place, they know what they have done, but it is never too late.  It is a choice they have to make, an intersection wherein they have to turn.  Just like the delicate play-doh,  it can be molded to anything depending on what the artist wants.Finding their own identity, being curios, and others may just go with the flow. But due to its delicateness, it is sensitive, it can go wrong. But yet again, one should never ask.



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