I am from...

By
More by this author
I am from…

I am from the oddly colored couch in my living room
From the bed in my room and table in the kitchen
I’m from the little white Condo, in the back of the complex hiding behind bushes and trees
I am from the grass growing in the ground
The old oak trees near the street
Whose long gone limbs I remember
As if they were my own.
I am from loud sports and cooking
From my mother and father
Whose marriage seemed to end too quickly
I’m from yelling and screaming
And from the sounds of people saying sorry and tears
I’m from always tell the truth and think before you speak
And don’t let anyone tell you different
I’m from The Office every Thursday
And lost every Tuesday
I’m from America and Ireland
Pasta and corn beef
From mom wanting to be a writer
But becoming a teacher
The picture of my mom’s side of the family
At my cousins wedding
Looking the happiest we’ve looked in awhile
On the inside of my family’s hearts
That’s where I’m from
No one can tell me different
Or that I don’t belong
I am from we’ll always be together forever and always





Join the Discussion

This article has 1 comment. Post your own now!

DIPTI said...
Jun. 20, 2010 at 1:31 am
wow its best writing .keep up d grt work.
 
bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback