I was from the city, from New York specifically. I was from the corner store around the time. (Light, gleaming it appeared illuminated.) I was on the edge, the only edge where a lot was expected from me as a child I remember this looking back. I was from a well raised home, From a time I once knew and understood I’m from the same old place and a place that has remained unchanged, from when the puzzles were not difficult to solve. but not easy to arrange with all that took place and wisdom I could seek. I’m from the middle, I don’t seek attention. Attention was never the issue instead I wanted to be heard no one ever listens. I cried out I even poured my heart and soul out. I left that all behind awhile ago instead of just placing them on the table. I used to cherish these hopeful moments — instead the memories are just memories now — now leave it all behind — move on forward to the new.
