I am from...

I am from a Caucasian mother and an African American father

I am from being called black by whites and white by blacks

Where I am from,

Talking proper means talking white and even being stuck up

I am from being told that I talk white and replying

That is because a daughter learns from her mother, right?

Especially one whose father is a stranger,

I am from a father, who never wanted me,

He doesn’t even pretend. I find it to be better that way.

My excuse for him is that he is afraid.

My oldest brother came from him,

The one who I never get to see

Because he runs away from his foster homes, and just after 

His 18th birthday, he continues to rob peoples' homes

Including my own and goes to jail.

Don’t give up brother, I love you

I am from a step dad of tough love,

Man, he loves his football, he didn’t finish high school

I can’t help but feel like it haunts him, even if he won’t admit it.

I am from a mother who loves me oh so much, a mamaw who I am just alike

A grandmother who can seem to find the right words to say

A papaw who taught me how to load and shoot

Pistols and rifles at a young, young age

I am from a grandfather who loved me before he even met me.

From remembering dreams and nightmares from when I was four years old

But not being able to remember what I ate for breakfast yesterday.

I am from the utopia in my head, I go there often.

I am from misunderstood by many and loving every minute of it

Where I am from will never be forgotten.

This poem is about: 
My family
My community


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