Made In The USA

This is part of my story.

I was born on a hot summers

night, 3rd of July on a Friday

9 pm.

With fire in my soul

and future sunrises

waiting to bloom, I

grew.

From the soil of American blue’s,

moody beaches covered in sunbathing

bodies, seagulls and seashells

of LA and Pismo.

My mom taught me well, I had

a voice and I have a story

to tell.

She raised me on rock n roll

guitar riffs, piano keys

at my finger tips and a voice

like a bell ringing in a tower.

With a bible under my belt,

and black belt karate around

my hips, with yoga on the side

I grew into myself.

Art galleries and canvas rooted

in my mind, from the beginning

I was meant to shine.

I was raised on American soil,

apple pies and biscuits with gravy.

I was soaked in the mud of

the Kern county mountains,

I swam in the river and ran

through the city barefoot

dreaming of a better future.

Poor and sick, but brave and

willing to learn I became

stronger and better than

I ever imagined.

I proved them wrong by

surviving mental illness,

cracking the lock to my

own purpose.

The meaning to life is simple,

to live it to the fullest, too be

brave and bold. Live it well.

Author's Note

Please be kind. I am autistic and I am trying. I am using a cell phone to post so spell check might cause errors. I will correct them when I am capable.