I had everything and luck: Rings of smoke <br />blown for me; sunlight safe inside the leaves <br />of cottonwoods; pure, simple harmonies <br />of church music, echoes of slave songs; scraps <br />of candy wrappers -- airborne. Everything. <br />Mother and father, brother, aunts, uncles; <br />chores and schoolwork and playtime. Everything. <br /> <br />I was given gloves against winter cold. <br />I was made to wear gloves when I gardened. <br />I was made to garden; taught to hold forks <br />in my left hand when cutting, in my right <br />when bringing food to my mouth. Everything. <br /> <br />I had clothes I was told not to wear outside; <br />a face you could clean up almost handsome; <br />I had friends to fight with and secrets, spread <br />all over the neighborhood; the best teachers, <br />white and colored. I'm not making this up. <br />I knew that I had everything. Still do.<br /><br />G.E. Patterson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/autobiographia/
