Rusted, desolated, broken dreams.
Torn down, built up, sold as new.
Forgotten memories, stolen ideas,
That is where I hail from.

Sky blue eyes curving simplicity,
I reign from the ashes of the hollow.
Black, blue, yellow, and green
the fruits show peace beyond negativity.

Sitting on an open porch,
Smiling like no other,
listening to the tales of the tales,
that come from my father.

Apricot trees, Fixated houses;
down the street is torn up and beat,
where my friends lived vouches,
is where I would come up to meet.

Current animations hold a shotgun,
shooting at the first sight seen at the end of the street,
sadly is where my life belongs;
And where my dreams rely.
My life flashes before my eyes
As my two childhoods collide.