Where I’m From

I'm from white picket fences and houses to uniform to distinguish,

A town nestled away in middle class suburbia.

I'm from the aging cook books that never seem to be open,

From the photographs that display long forgotten moments,

From the rooms my family filled with roaring laughter and odd jokes.

I'm from a father who's close,

A mother who's far away,

And siblings who remind me of the lessons I've forgotten.