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hyperbolized — Where I'm From
Published: 2008-04-17 03:28:23 +0000 UTC; Views: 356; Favourites: 2; Downloads: 7
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Description I am from Polaroid pictures,
From red light to the lingering smell of fixer.
I am from the ink stained on my fingertips
(Bitter, thick
and unwashable.)
I am from the monotonous suburbs,
The pathetic twig of a tree
Standing below my bedroom window
That I'll never be able to climb like the city skyscrapers.

I am from microwaved breakfast and four crying kids,
From seeking peace and never-ending cabin fever.
I'm from the report cards and high expectations,
From do or do eventually.
I'm from flopping on my bed at 2 am
And getting out a second later.

I am from the way he rests his chin on my head,
his sweater and the music from his guitar.
I am from the place where these times are rare.
From my mother's dry, cracked dishwashing hands
To the white hairs that appeared every time Dad came home.
Hours spent staring at the blurry ceiling
Wishing I was anywhere else,
but never courageous enough
To leave the only things I've known.

I am from all the nights
Where the only thing I could do
was count my blessings
And turn out the light.
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Comments: 1

MrsCarlaJenkins [2008-05-30 04:07:07 +0000 UTC]

i like this poem. i remember when the orriginal was written. but it seems i cant remember much of anything anymore. i used to have a man just like that, George O'donnel, unfortunatley he died in world war 2. oh well you kiddies run along probably dont want an old lady like me blabberin on all the time. good job

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