Learn more about other poetry terms
It's taken a life to meet you A season to leave you I do it again- just to meet you to try to mend all we let defeat you and I again
I don't want you so involved in my life What choices I make are my own right You can get mad and angry But its your reputation on the line, not mine. Watch over me whether I want you to our not,
I am from long winding roads, from polaroid photos and old story books, I am from the brick house at the dead end street, laughter and comfort. I am from the tall trees, the snowflakes,
As I drink my sweet tea, I remember my Southern upbringing. Running barefoot through the fields with my half-naked cousins and trying to avoid getting a whooping for playing in the mud.