Poem

I had to write this poem for my writing class, so I decided to put it on here.


I Am poem
I am from an imagination-filled sandbox,
from floral dresses and ninnyhammers.
I am from the achievement-covered fridge
and the dust atop the untouched piano.
I am from the un-watered plants in the kitchen,
whose dead leaves fall, shriveled and uncared for.

I am from holiday decals and empty band aid boxes,
from Decatur and Marguerite.
I am from old-fashioned chivalry and decadent smirks,
from egotistical food-grabs and smart remarks.

I am from thought-out prayers,
rice pudding and best cake,
fresh out of the oven.
I am from the sound of a child being struck by a car,
and from a sweet mother,
killed in a fatal accident.

In the dark of the cold basement,
was a dress-up box filled with memories,
costumes, that I then, wiggled on my small child body.
I am from the moments abiding in laughter-filled rooms,
aside that dusty, untouched piano.