Little Brown House

September 29, 2016
By , Royal Oak , MI

I am from a little brown house
that creaks  from room to room.
From the dirt and the trees
from the trails and the tracks.

I am from the garden of flowers
that never seem to grow.
From the bike tires and petals,
running shoes and barefeet.

The baby dolls,
the play houses
sparked my imagination.
The cooking and baking,
made my heart filled with love

I am from the sunshine
the sandy beaches,
from the tents and trailers.
The bug spray,
the sunscreen
And the camp fires that spark
like a firework on the Fourth of July,

I am from the broken bones
from the stitches,
from the braces and the casts.
Most of all,
I am from the fighters
the survivors,
the ones that would never break.

I am from these moments,
These experiences,
since the day I opened my eyes

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