I’m from the east side of Lake Nagawicka,
where my kingdom ranged from the Bark River to Zastrow Bay.
I’m from the sandbars and the kettle of my lake,
where I executed the toughest jumps off my friends double decker pontoon.

I’m from the dirt bike jumps,
where friendly races sometimes ended in blood and broken bones.
I’m from the hill that leads down to my friend’s house,
where kids have tumbled and stumbled to the bottom.

I’m from the grassy field I call my backyard,
where Dad would play sports with me and my brothers.
I’m from the neighborhood where my friend’s yards were battle zones,
where my automatic airsoft gun reigned over everyone else’s I faced.

I’m from the warm summer nights around the bonfire,
where the crackling of the fire and chords from guitars was all you could hear.
I’m from the neighborhood night games and mischief,
where all ages would come together for the entertainment and festivities.

I’m from the midnight movies with mom and dad,
where every sunday night would mean popcorn and ice cream before bed.
I’m from playing lava feet with dad down to my room,
where if I touched any part of the ground my foot would get buried in smoldering lava.