They say I can be whatever I want to be, cuz I have wings that can fly to the sky of everlasting opportunity. But nothing comes from nothing and I come from hand-washed clothes and thrift stores, beans and fried chicken wings, no running water or working light , crack pipes and heroine, fist fights and floating targets, domestic violence and confusion, confusion and depression, depression and then hopelessness.
That’s why nothing comes from nothing but you still telling me that I can still be something…
Commentary: I wrote this poem out of doubt. Doubt in what the “cheerleaders” around me were telling me how I could succeed. Despite my effort, everything in my life was telling me the opposite. I dig deep as I explore these doubts as well as my ability overcome my circumstances.
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