WHERE I AM FROM

I am from a bedroom as my grandma’s baby.

There was a big window in the room, covered by the creepers,

 So I could see nothing outside except a dying tree;

There was a brown bookcase, full of grandpa’s books,

But I cannot read them except Anderson’s stories.

I am from a room full of broken toys.

There used to have doll’s head rolling on the floor.

But grandma took my broken toys and repair them at night

And put them high in the case far away from my violence.

I am from a burnt room destroyed in the Spring Festival.

When I played fireworks, the bed started to burn.

Then the table burnt and the fire spread the whole room.

I wrote a long apology letter, hanging on my wall.

I am from a family whose mother loves cleaning.

We are forced to do a whole-house cleaning every other week.

I usually clean all the tables while my mom mops the floor.

But where’s my daddy? He is outside the door.

I am from a family whose grandma was illiterate.

She threw all my books since she thought they were useless.

I collected them for five years and now they were all gone.

I had a quarrel with my grandma and cried the whole afternoon.

I am from a family whose sisters were so sweet.

They made me birthday card when they were five.

They learnt to write “Happy Birthday!” as well as drawing a big colorful cake.

And there was a rainbow drawn on the front page by crayon.

I am from a family whose pet was a clever cat.

She knew how to turn on the light and danced to make me laugh.

Sometimes she did stupid stuff like hiding food under my bed.

And every morning, all her collections were thrown away.

But anyway, she was my favorite pet.