• I am from messy floors filled with junk and books.
    From a quiet place to think and write down thoughts,
    From listing to a variety of music on the radio
    And a comfortable place to escape from the world.
    I am from home—where scattered pages each have their own story to tell.

    I am from the feeling of annoyance and drama in the air.
    From the yelling that fills my ears everyday,
    From a place were many emotions have been shown
    And the sound of computer keys clicking as I type out my feelings.
    I am from false pictures on the wall that show a family that has no problems.

    I am from half-asleep teenagers walking to the bus on chill mornings.
    From Flowers blooming in the spring leading to a bright beautiful summer,
    From children running around as they make new friends
    And the smell of farm life everywhere.
    I am from friends playing in the sparkling cold white snow.

    I am from the cries of horror and distress as disaster strikes.
    From the selfish souls that hide among the caring hearts,
    From heroes that rush into danger to save others
    And a place that mourns for complete strangers.
    I am from a place that cares enough to travel to help others in the world.

    I am from a family that fought for our freedom many times.
    From a Native American loving grandma,
    From a genius uncle who made bad choices
    And a mother who loves to help others.
    I am from a musical family.

    I am from singing music all day long.
    From spending time with my best friends,
    From helping animals
    And working to help others see God.
    I am from a hazy future.