A Girl On The Couch In The City

I wouldn’t care to talk about the city I come from,

But the couch I slept on,

The blow up mattress I’ve tossed on.

I could tell my story a thousand times but what message would be conveyed

To cry and feel sad is not what is to be taken away

See, I’ve walked across a line of soon to fall and the fallen,

Broken down by things, trying to find my calling

Yet, through it all one thing stays the same

Seem like those hard places I’ve slept never change

Maybe it shouldn’t, maybe it couldn’t

For I have never had something that made me so determined

So determined for a better life, better earnings

See, I’ve walked across a line of soon to fall and crossed over to those that have risen

I take their advice and use it as my guide

My education is my money for a bed with 2 pillows, maybe 4

Not a couch

To tell the people, children of my whereabouts

My education is my story, the reason I stand, the reason I’m not in jail, pregnant, homeless, angry and all

It’s the reason I have not encountered the fall

That fall that has taken the fallen

I wouldn’t care to talk about the city I’m from

Or how my mom has no job, no section 8 or the fact I’ve lived from couch to couch,

But that couch,

That couch that has been my study area, dinner table, bed, and hope

It has got me addicted to success like a drug dealer selling dope

Just like them, we hope…for a better future but in different lights

Despite my situation, I fight

That old couch, ha! With its’ brown stains, sunken in cushions, broken handle…covered with a light blue cover

That cover, being washed from time to time…

Just like me, renewed in time

I could replace the cushions and broken handle with new things…

I could use my education to replace this life with my dreams

That blue cover could remain

Like all my mentors, teachers, and family

My love for them never change

Only be washed, so that it stays clean

Now the college scene, is what it seems

And I’ll always remember that old couch

The past will replay… on that couch

But what you take from that couch

It is not doubt but

HOPE, SUCCESS, POSSIBILITY

I wouldn’t care to talk about the city I’m from,

It has done nothing, determined nothing

Does it make you sad knowing where I’ve slept?

No! It shouldn’t, I couldn’t

Maybe I don’t care

Because I have seen many places

Some in which I’ve seen even when on that couch, in that city

This is me, this is my story, and this is my couch

Not my past but now…my whereabouts

My queen bed and 4 pillows to come

Work hard…my story has just begun