Learn more about other poetry terms
I am from a Caucasian mother and an African American father
March twenty-fifth is when I missed your tender kiss.
The distance from you is distracting Peace becomes faint Time speeds up Moving on transforms into impossibility Mere memories continue Single weeks seem like forever Attention isn't the same
She came early today She said she took the long way And had something to say She told me some lies She told me some truth She told me she tries Sometimes what’s the use
For every child that cries at night, Rewind back to your own early times, Every laugh you laughed, every song you sang, Every child should experience the same. Do not all children dance joyously, you say?
I am from ditches and crowded streets,ca
I am from the brown house with the dead end sign in the little cul-de-sac.
The twenties are calling. Can you hear them roar? Traditional restraints began falling, Awakening these times that were spent unsure.
I am from outside, From playgrounds, trees and bikes From kids playing in laughter And smiles on faces so bright I am from couches, From computers, chairs and stairs
I am from time well spent and moments lost, Licking the cream from Oreos and Summer days spent at the park. Where I'm from we catch salamanders at the river, Stay up late watching drive in movies
I am from plane rides at a week old, from always knowing there was something special about my family. I am from always knowing I was adopted.