I’m from the streets of suburbia,

where the mowed grass sways in the wind.

Where the smell of cooked meat swirls through the air,

and the celebrations never seem to end.

Where the door can remain unlocked 

until the start of quiet nights.

I’m from the Catholic Church.

Where people never get turned away.

Where love is the only emotion.

Where friends and strangers mix to become one.

Where the children of Christ learn about his life,

and are guided to be compassionate.

I’m from fear, procrastination, and dreary eyes.

Where kids are just another face walking in the crowd.

Where my “friends” don’t care.

Where my parents worry too much.

Where happiness is always just ahead,

but never seems to arrive.

I’m from the streets of suburbia,

Where the mowed grass sways in the wind.

I’m from the Catholic Church.

Where people are never turned away.

I’m from anxiety and nerves.

Where kids are just another face in the crowd.