Hey dudsons,
I wrote another poem for English that I also want to share with you guys:
Where I’m From
I am from love, which is like a rose, so beautiful, yet everyone wants it in spite of its thorns.
I am from the quiet neighborhood in the busy city; there are almost no towering skyscrapers seen from where I sleep.
I am from dandelions, their seeds floating in the air, the wind sweeping them away, far from their home.
I am from summer barbeques and getting dressed up for special occasions, from Ivan and Git, whom are like the ends of tunnels, opening up a whole world of wonders for me.
I am from TV after dinner and washing the dishes.
From “Be nice to your brother!” to “I promise” and advice that I always can trust.
I am from “you’ll understand when you’re older” and pray in times of despair.
I’m from Canada, South Africa and China.
From “hello” to “goon-ja-ni” to “ni-hao”.
Vegetable stir-fry and tofu, chopsticks and woks.
From the burn that left a scar on my thigh, the annual trips to PNE, and my mother’s reassuring arms that open whenever I need comfort and consolation.
I am from the stacks of photo albums in the living room cabinet, filled with good memories from my early years, which we never seem to have time to sit down and look at.
I am from fun; my old toys are all packed up in plastic Rubbermaid boxes, like they’re ready to be shipped out like cargo, in the crawlspace, a scary and dark place if you will.
I am from love, a dangerous drug that I’ll always be addicted to.
--Cyndi Forrest
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