I came from a ridge where the fog rolls slow and the creek talks back, where every man knows your granddaddy’s name and every lie gets caught before it leaves your mouth. I grew up splitting wood, hauling feed, learning early that trouble echoes louder in a holler than it ever will in a city street. You can’t do stupid in a small country town, ‘cause folks remember, folks talk, and folks raise you right even when you don’t want raising. That’s the soil I sprouted from, red clay under my nails, truth stitched into my spine.
Now I’m walking through a city that never sleeps, lights buzzing like hornets, people moving fast with empty eyes, thinking noise makes them strong. They look at me like I’m slow ‘cause I speak plain, but they don’t know I learned silence from mountains older than their buildings. They don’t know I learned patience from rivers that carved stone. They don’t know I learned strength from watching my people survive storms without ever asking for applause. Big city folk can’t test me, ‘cause they ain’t built from what I’m built from. They ain’t carried the weight of generations on their back while still showing up to work before sunrise.
I see strange energy everywhere I go, folks acting bold ‘cause nobody knows their mama. They think they can talk slick, move reckless, throw shade without consequence. But where I’m from, your word is your backbone, and if it snaps, so do you. I keep my head down, but I ain’t blind. I keep my heart soft, but I ain’t weak. I keep my roots deep, deeper than these concrete streets can ever understand. They think I won’t say nothing back, but I’ve held my tongue longer than they’ve held their temper. I’ve walked through darker nights than these alleys. I’ve stood in colder winds than these attitudes.
I miss the whippoorwills calling at dusk, the porch lights glowing like lanterns of memory, the gravel roads that taught me balance, the neighbors who waved even when they were mad at you. But I carry them with me. Every step I take in this steel jungle is guided by the hills that raised me. I ain’t here to fit in. I ain’t here to fold. I’m here to stand tall like the pines that watched me grow. I’m here to remind myself that a country boy don’t break, he bends. And when the city tries to shake me, I just breathe deep and let the mountains answer for me.
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robertdadawg53
