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Shekar 1

Aditi Shekar
Mr. King
English 1
4 February 2016
Essence of My Childhood
My home is the lingering phone calls that trace
halfway across the world
And my eager grandparents chattering longer than time
My home is my cantankerous brother
whose eyes of brown-steel ferocity shake at me in anger

My home is the ebony, melancholy buildings


rising atop my miniscule family like a bully
sparking intrigued heads to gaze up
My home is the rusty metal mesh bordering the fire place
Spreading toasty wafts of air towards my frosty interior on a bitter night

My home is the crisp pine air and thick, perplexing woods


shrouding over the trickling stream of memories
Filling up my stale screened porch with
the tangible smells of a fresh evergreen summer

My home is the heaps of trendy magazines

Shekar 2
the monochrome New York and Paris posters
Forming mountains in my chaotic room
And the many jadores and jaimes
bottled up in vivid tones of nail lacquer
From radiant reds to beach blues
Each one its own special personality
The whole spectrum awaits to paint my stark nails to life

My home is the remarkable journey


of an overly enthusiastic girl
From muddy Slip n Slides to icy frappes at Starbucks
she has relished these snaps
But her childhood memories have dripped away
She has grown up
Because innocence is the essence of childhood
and it no longer fills her heart pure