Stronger

I'm from the pastures of Ireland,
From boxers and fighters,
And hunger pains for independence.
I'm from soft Irish brogues
Repeating stories and legends from childhood,
Little ears believing silly superstitions.

I'm from casual walks to the corner store,
Hands in pockets and change jingling.
I'm from bike-riding alongside my step-brother,
Joking and laughing up and down the street 'til dark.
I'm from Skip-It in the driveway,
From counting hops I could do with a jump rope,
And shooting baskets against my father on Saturday mornings.

I'm from unstable living situations,
Moving from house to house so often, I don't remember them all.
But it didn't matter because we were all together.
I'm from that scary bug in the backyard
That made us freeze with fear, unable to move
Until brave McGee saved us with her lipstick-stained cup.

I am from these moments and so much more,
An ugly branch that they attempted to cut down
But grew back even stronger.
♠ ♠ ♠
McGee=what I called my paternal grandmother. It's a long story.

If you think this is similar to a different, published poem, that's because that was the assignment. Because this is for my creative writing class. Hahaha. This is my first poem I've ever published, so I hope you guys like it!