Where I’m From

I am from the cuddle soft that leaves me smelling fresh;
I am from the withered roses that sit on the garden floor;
I’m from the leaves that fall on a cold September day;
I am from the sky that seems so far away;
I am from the crippled and the barely seen, from Thalia and Derrick.
I am from the mother knows best and the told you so’s;
I am from the ticking clock that says its time to leave, and
the Sunday morning worship where I go and pray.
I’m from the dusted pictures I remember like yesterday
the graduation that seems so far away;
I am from the heavens above where only the lord
can say welcome my child come this way.