I’m from a neighborhood where children roam free
Where everyone grows a little older than some see
I’m from a family with deep seated traditions
Where I used to believe in things I didn’t really believe in

I’m from the loud music playing next door
Where the party lasts ‘til half past four
I’m from the kitchen table that’s powdered with sugar
Where I take the sponge and clean it with vigor

I’m from the street where the flowers grow wild
Where there are trees that sprout purple flowers
I’m from the cracked sidewalks
Where between them grow dandelions

I’m from the painted walls of the mercado
Where they’re covered with the faces of pale models
I’m from the aisles filled with colorful concoctions
Where on the top left shelf they market bleaching lotions

I’m from a community that hasn’t had it easy
Where the only way out is to be the best we can be
I’m from a place where an education is a mere dream to others
Where children grow up knowing they’ll be the caretakers

I’m from a family that has worked it’s whole life
Where I’m familiar with the rough hands of my fathers,
And the tired form of my mothers

I’m from a proud culture
People who work under the sun
And It’s the experiences from my family
That encourages me to do more