I am from the dusty floors of hot Africa.
I am from the smooth pavements of America.
I am from the determined mind of fleeing to the good land,
the free land.
I am from the anxious looks given to me
post 9/11 while I walk with a visible
disgrace on my head.


I am from the clean fresh
Scent of my mother’s laundry.
To the classrooms that loom
Over me, daring me to escape.
I am from the sweet bread my dad
rolls under the scorching heat.
I am from crowded hallways with masked faces,
To over polluted streets that reek
Of gasoline and fast food restaurants.

I am from hidden beds
While gun fire shoots overhead.
I am from clean houses, and edible food
to education.
I am from here, there,
I am from everywhere.