Where I’m From
I am from the dark and painful streets of people getting killed every day.
I am from the bullets zipping past my window sounding like thunder, rage.
And loud screaming.
Hitting the boy’s body parts who said nothing.
I am from the red, white, and blue flag, from the home of the brave.
Really I’m from 79th and King Drive.
I am from the money side of the family tree.
I’m from the people who walk in god’s shoes,
From “Sit down and pay attention,”
“Eat the rest of your food and have great manners.”
I am from “Boy don’t grow up to be like your father.”
I am from chicken, fast foods and footwear.
From Nike, Jordan’s and converse.
I am from the big beige and black gated house.
I am from 1720 W. Estes.
I am from smoke in the kitchen,
Beautiful smells in air and food always in the house.
From growing up without a father.
But never mind him,
I’m living my life WHERE I’M FROM.
About The Author
