Hometown Poem by Jesse Bauer


Growing up is just a dream.
Childhood memories gone by.
From Missoula, Montana,
but to later say goodbye.

My freckled best friend, Wesley
Was always there for a laugh.
Matchbox and Hot Wheels for him,
Video games were my craft.

Friends would come and go at school.
We all had cliques and fassions.
The way we dressed, even spoke,
Would separate our factions.

Jocks, preps, and even emos,
Never connected at all.
Like genocide between us,
It rekindled every Fall.

Like the school, the town was so.
But much larger than our packs.
Rich and poor, their parts of town.
Browns, yellows, reds, whites, and blacks.

Farmers here and lawyers there.
The students and the bums.
Separated by their hate,
Into campuses and slums.

When I was ripped from my home,
And moved to podunk Newell.
My first thought was disgusted.
My parents were just cruel.

I left then, from big to small,
One hundredth my hometown's size.
The students hateful, not friends.
I'm just fresh meat in their eyes.

With time i grew acustomed
To life in a dirt poor place
Friends would come and stay this time
Not hating, talking to my face.

Now the whole school knows me
I'm familiar with all.
I've learned all I need to know,
And look forward to the Fall.

Like the school, the town was so.
Accepting not, the new soul.
But with some time and knowing.
It becomes one of a whole.

The farmers and the ranchers,
That's all you can really see.
But here, they live together.
United as it should be.

I know now about my towns.
They govern who I'll become.
Moving to a new hometown,
Surely must have changed me some.

I lost a separation,
I gained friendship of a town.
New moral fiber gave me
A look of up and not down.

What else is your own hometown,
If it's not a major part
Of what will be your future?
A piece of your puzzled heart.


well, personally i don't understand. i can't wait to get back to a large town small towns are not for me. two faced and backstabers are all i have found.

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