I am from stubborn children.
I am from southern mouths.
From the short tempered.
The warm blooded.
High cheek bones.
Emotionless like stones.
I am from the war,
I belong to football fans.
To the courageous,
To cartoons on Sunday morning.
I am from hard workers,
and farmers tans
Ginger burns,
I am from fried chicken on Sunday afternoon.
But I exist only because of the ones before me.
the ones that fought the right battle.
The ones that strive for the flight of the singing bird.
The ones that showed me the good in myself before moving onward.
The ones that made me a possibility.
