I come from, hand me downs from my sister and her friends,
from, the window taken over by ivy over generations,
from, a pile of thorns never thrown away.

I come from, 2 homes,
from the fields of cows and sheep with dog barking at you while you’re on the quad.
from having friends, having to leave them, making new ones, having to leave them too, but making the best ones yet.

I come from, people not understanding when I try my best,
from, constantly needing reassurance,
from, falling deep into the world of books and loosing track of time.

I come from, a home some may call strange, but I love it regardless,
from, such a big family I’m always meeting new members,
I come from, my great granny’s jug collection that resembles celebs.

I come from, always feeling lost, even just a little.

By Laurie.