I am from music,
conducting every battle
and fighting silently for my sanity.

I am from steel strings
that overcome emotion.
My history on a staff
in verses, yet no chorus.

I am from a single, dark hallway
the screams ricocheting like bullets
that reached and killed
a terrible partnership.

I am from weeping willows
streaming their sorrowful message
through my window
and clouding my vision.

I am from perfection
hiding in every small,
gentle structure
that holds strength.

I am from the heart of a fire
too stubborn to end it's fight
against winter's harsh wind.

I am from Wisconsin,
a broken home,
and a heart
that beats like a steel drum.

Are you?