Where I Am From


I'm from cheerfully dancing dirt
in the eye-hurting bright light,
from dark black smoke rushing out the chimney of factories
and swallowing the grey sky.
I'm from tidy apartment,
with mirror-like floors,
where everything should be where they are,
books on desk, cups in kitchen.
I'm from the popcorn smell filling the whole room,
the sound of time passing by,
and the cold water running from my thumb to the edge of the plate.
I'm from a huge backpack,
with f(x) equals to x
and photosynthesis,
that keeps hurting my back.
I'm from Put-More-Effort-Into-Your-Study,
and You-Can-Always-Do-Better.
Sitting on my creamy white desk
is a treasure box,
carrying
my medal from the contest,
the silver coin with the honor of time,
and a furry rabbit toy.
I'm from flower blooming and leaves falling,
in front of the apartment door,
near the lake which never stops singing.

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