I was from broken doors, walls and floors.

I was from brown, brittle grass,

crunching beneath my feet.

I was the few, almost grey leaves,

helplessly clinging on to the life,

Of the once marvelously green tree.

I was from dark sorrowful skies,

and unhappy stars.

From tearful nights.

I was from a vast want,

To be whole again.

I was from his anger and frustration,

From a fear as strong as his grip.

I was from the snap in his brain,  

From the cause of my pain.  

I was from his harsh tongue, (It's silver blade cut like fire.)

I am now from healing.

And a new life,

I was from my past.

I am now from my strength.

*Inspired by George Ella Lyon’s “Where I Am From”