Concrete
I am from the concrete.
Taught to be smart from books and from the streets.
I am from the Hard Times and the High bills.
From New England, with snow and icy winds with chills.
I am from the silence and constant compromise.
My Family tree holds the real surprise.
I am from 5 kids, smack right in the middle.
Learned to be grown from the start, no chance to be little.
I was only 10 when I learned what in life was truly real.
The warm eyes and soft faces bacame cold hard steel.
I am from the struggle and endless tears.
From the shaking bottom lip caused by racist jeers.
I am from the stubborn, determined, and unyielding strength.
I am from the unbreakable willpower and well controlled restraint.
I am from the long nights over textbooks and hot stoves.
I am from the warming bottles, diapers, and a mother's woes.
I am from the curl, knotted, black, and frizzy hair.
From the judgmental and calculating stares.
I am from the pillars that hold up a family's foundation.
From the Hispanic Puerto Ricans to the black Jamaicans.
I am from love, hard work, and faith in God.
And one day, I'll be from awards, success, and well deserved applause.
However, until that dream is finally complete,
I am content with being from the concrete.