I am from the kindness of the “oh so talkative” Scott family

And the hard work born from the “ever-stubborn” Hare’s

From traffic-ridden highways and serene rushing rivers

To classes where I was one in two to one and fifteen

Where folks packed the morning streets to break from spaghetti junctions and impending traffic jams


I am from comfort, For I knew adults prided themselves on hiding their pains.

Their pains of upcoming bills, incompetent managers,

And dealing with two sons who just couldn’t click when a test was placed in front of them.

Yet these same adults could play Wii sports anytime I asked

But I still can hear their frustration through my incessant curiosity


Still, they worked regardless of their frustrations.

Worked so that I could have the privilege of saying that I am from a cookie-cutter home,

Filled with the oddly nauseating smell of crepe myrtle trees,

Contrasting their nostalgic white and pink petals


I am from the stuck-up, the “think they're too good,” and the “always got something to say”

Yet I only develop pride from these useless comments,

For in my eyes, all I see and all I know is that I am from the confident, the ambitious,

And the same curiosity pushing me today.