I am from dirty water,

From fire and flour,

I am from the ashes of the past,

(Grey, Powdery,

It crumbles)

I am from the broken picture frames, The singed edge of a photo,

Who was long ago taken,

As if just yesterday,

I am from the shadows and the light,

From East and West,

The tall and the small,

To the big and strong,

With the tiny and mighty,

I am from the sass and attitude,

With mistrust,

And names that are no longer said,

I am from long dirt roads,

With wild mushrooms ready to be picked,

Under the archway of my room,

Was a picture on my door,

A photograph  of a smiling family,

Soft smiles and light hearts,

I am from these places,

These memories,

These people,

These moments.