Where I am From

Tue, 11/03/2015 - 22:15 -- zahraa

I am from the sweet grape leaves

Growing in the backyard.

I am from the view of a tall oak tree

Sitting in the park.

I am from the burning smell of Clorox

And the purple sight of fabuloso

Used to clean all ‘round the house.


I’m from the Qur’an’s ear filling praise,

I’m from the water,

Family gathered swimming in the hot

But still cool summer sun.


I’m from rice and ground beef

With a little bit of seven seasoning

I’m from hanging on to rusty bars like trees

I’m from the mosquito bites

From the midnight air

From the front porch chilling with friends and family


I’m from the tears of my mother and father,

A surviving bud after all the others

I’m from the deaths of my late brothers and sisters

I’m from the blooming bud of her belly


I’m from the Mario bros series

Growing old but not yet wary

I’m from the intriguing kid

That sits in class and is fascinated.

I’m from the expectations of my parents

From my peers,

From my teachers,

From the surrounding world.


I’m from a happy yet hurt child

Loved, cherished, but never forgotten.

This poem is about: 
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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