The Yellow Star

Came into the world through a brown canal.

I'd like to imagine my mom's womb warm and elegant like a maroon evening gown.

At 15 years old my mom gave birth and wrapped her baby in a yellow blanket.

The star of her life is here to shine.

The star had a head full of black hair and wide brown eyes.

Somehow I knew the world was mine before I could even tell time.

Rhyme,

Or even climb.

Sometimes the yellow star faded when the clouds rolled in

But I still I felt the heat beamin in now and again

I was born with a natural knack for sounds.

With every defeat I made a beat.

With all the grief I created rainbows and I leaped.

Clutching on my yellow star power was as intrinsic as the air we breathe.

New York City a place that never sleeps.

For me sleepness nights was due to blue hues of TV scenes illuminating past curfew.

My little sisters hated the dark,

and well

we shared a room.

Having to grow up with your parents sounds fun.

It can be.

But on the other side are the instances where childhood was stripped from me.

I wouldn't trade it for the world.

This is my trophy

My Lalique.

Heaven knew my road was destined for gold.

So he sent the yellow star in a yellow blanket for mom to behold.