All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
I was born, raised, made, and looked after
I was born into the stems from the flowers of my mothers and grandmothers,
daisies and roses.
I was born into the dusty dirt of my fathers and grandfathers,
silt and grime.
I was raised by the stretch of fields in northern Michigan,
grass and dirt.
I was raised by the miles of art in southern Wisconsin,
paint and quilts.
I was made by the pricks pokes of needles with my mother,
silk and tulle.
I was made by the dirt and cuts from working with my father,
wood and metal.
I was looked after by the fences running along neighborhoods and houses,
picket and wire.
I was looked after by the pavement of school grounds and sidewalks,
stones and gravel.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.
This poem tells my story, where I came from, and where I am now.