I come from a place where kids line the cinderblock walls,

afraid to step on the lava in the center

because the carpet delineates

the safe from the dangerous.

I come from a place where imagination brews,

starting with my teacher's cauldron

and ending with my mother

teaching me her stew.

I come from a place where you choose

who you want to be,

look at those around you like choices,

and pick the crowd to be.

I come from a place where nothing is definite,

where the most certain of things

can crumble with the onslaught

of a new storm.

I come from a place where authorities are wrong,

but nobody gives a second look,

for he is this and he is that

as if it could excuse his example.

I come from a difficult place,

but not one that is impossible,

for if you do the right thing, always,

you will be who you want to become.