Yet

It’s all lined up

You are here, you are ready

Three-hundred years, plus fifty-something

All the injustice,

War,

Blood,

Death,

All stained in the pretty walls

The walls that we were given

We were given

We fought, we were given

We lost, we were given

We won, we were given

Then came the fifty-something, my old man

A Georgia farm boy, youngest of eleven

Farm boy to Army doctor

Back-up, undergrad

Morehouse College

Incredibly studious party animal

Partier, meets elegant young Spelmanite

Nice young lady from Michigan

Busy, married

Busy, one son

Busy, two sons

Who are you son one? I am me

Named, I am me

Me then, me now

Me Always

Everywhere

Morehouse College

You are here, you are ready

It’s all lined up

Summertime

Pre-freshman

Free hostage under R.A’s

Focused wanderer

Excitedly stressed

Exotically bland

Introverted extrovert

Extroverted introvert

Wandering focused young man

Success

Failure

Success…

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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