A/N: OK, so this isn't so much as poetry as something they told us was poetry that they made us do in English class. So...basically this entire thing is about yours truly. If you don't want to read I don't really care. If you want to know a little about me then go right ahead. :)
I am from am from the Lord is my Shepherd.
From Tolkien and Poe.
I am from be who you want and consider the source.
From writing and “we can’t do that.”
I am from Carry on My Wayward Son and Saturday morning dust rags.
From scrambled eggs and broken ankles.
I am from Shell and dancing.
From Christmas dinners at Grandma’s and myths.
In my desk drawer,
Beneath the notebook where my dreams began
Lie piles of cards
And a hated yet mourned photograph.
