by Robert Garel


Robert’s from the Deep South

From tall grass and dark streets

From bad tempers and hot heads

He’s from holes in walls and broken cabinets

From bruised knuckles and scraped knees

From gunshots and infected wounds

He’s from crazy thoughts and worse actions

From dumb choices and stupid mistakes

From icy tears and burning regret

I’m from Up North

From short naps and bright ideas

From playful attitudes and mellow moods

From fixed houses and full shelves

From working hands and healed hearts

From popping bubbles and old scars

I’m from a creative mind and big moves

From huge grins and happy days