I am from the books scattered across the floor
From Hogwarts and sketches in the corners of the pages
I am from the mobile homes in the middle of nowhere
(Secluded, lost
Each felt warm of love, yet cold from hiding hate)
I am from the flowing rivers,
The hidden creeks
Whose cool, calming waters could put you to sleep
I'm from the Christmas cookies and allergies to everything
From Judy and James and Doc Eddy
I'm from book smarts and childish behavior
From even we can still dream big
And I'll always love you for who you are "sis"
I'm from bow your heads and close your eyes
Then words I'll never understand why
I'm from Blackfoot and Cherokee
From Granny's sour cream pound cake
And Nanny's homemade biscuits
From the "scar of the antler" since my ma was a kid
And the barbecued leg of my father, Mr. Ed
Pictures of memories, both good and bad,
Now locked behind a closet door
I'm from their expectations,
The ones I fear I'll never achieve when all I'm reaching is the Skye.
YOU ARE READING
"Poetry"
PoëzieI try to write poetry when I need to clear my mind. Some of it is a little.... Dark. If you don't like don't read. If its good to you Well thanks Any comments and votes inspire me!
