Withering Past Blooming Present

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I am from Jersey City,
From toys and stuffed animals,
I am from dead ends and fertile soil,
From blue, white and green.
I am from mysterious woods, and strange old ladies,
From tiki heads and Dr. Seuss books,
Put into a place of utter mystery,
Readt to be unmasked and see the sunlight again.

I am from the mysterious closet downstairs and the creepy attic upstairs,
From funny and obnoxious loud surroundings.
I am from complicated electronics and good grades,
Fronm quiet woods and Spring Lake Park.
I am from tight suspenders and weird top hats,
From crowded streets and generous people.
People come and go with season,
Summer brings the new and winter parts with the old.

I am from "pops" and Linda O.,
From Christopher A.and Jemima O.
I am from loud and occasionalluy lifeless surroundings,
From creeks, crack, and clacks.
I am from the urban areas of Nigeria,
From farmers and buisness men,
They worked their way from farmers to buisness men,
To paver a better path for the previous generation.

Everything from the past has lost its place
It has been used and has no more use
The past has been put in a box
To make room for the presant





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