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I Write Poetry

i recall the days of my youth
when all possibilities
were endless and grand
where family rule
was the lay of the land

where skies were always blue
and even on cloudy days
one knew that the clouds
would eventually yield
and the sun would
once again shine

the neighborhood
was sacred ground
always felt safe there
whether day or night

people knew each other's names
neighbors were considered
like family, and family,
well there was nothing better

the only world I knew
was the confines of the neighborhood
those bunch of streets defined
my neighborhood from yours,
from theirs, and when you're a kid
this place with all its pieces
was the only thing you'd ever need
sunrisehawk · 61-69, M
Great job putting those memories into prose.
thank you, it wasn't an easy write, I struggled to make the pieces fit until I found what worked [@396546,sunrisehawk]

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