This is my "I am From Poem". It is a poem about where I have been, what I have done, and how fun it all was.
I am From Poem
By: Christian Alfaro
Hot, sweaty, humid… this is what it was like in the
Blistering hot of San Antonio, Texas.
I ran and rode around in the circular cul-de-sac
That I called home. As a child, I played the games that I loved
In a huge house that, to me, felt like a castle.
I grew with friends and family, that I eventually had
Let go of. I moved. To a place that I hardly
Knew. Utah. It was nice, quite, and peaceful.
But to me, winters there were as cold as the arctic.
The first year was horrible. Walking outside
Without proper clothing made the hairs on your
Arms stand up straight, and the icicles above your
Head would gleam in the sun with a magnificence
To them, they were surreal. But it grew nice after a time.
Just like the guy who never got paid attention to in middle
School, It was a place that most people looked at as
Different. Everybody there was nice. Kids were raised
To be right. To serve others, but I compare it to dystopia.
Because it’s not how the real world is. Utah was a bubble
And I hope for it’s sake, it doesn’t pop. Now I’m somewhere new. Again.
While I was too young to remember, I’ve been here before.
Will it remember me, or has it forgotten?
By: Christian Alfaro
Hot, sweaty, humid… this is what it was like in the
Blistering hot of San Antonio, Texas.
I ran and rode around in the circular cul-de-sac
That I called home. As a child, I played the games that I loved
In a huge house that, to me, felt like a castle.
I grew with friends and family, that I eventually had
Let go of. I moved. To a place that I hardly
Knew. Utah. It was nice, quite, and peaceful.
But to me, winters there were as cold as the arctic.
The first year was horrible. Walking outside
Without proper clothing made the hairs on your
Arms stand up straight, and the icicles above your
Head would gleam in the sun with a magnificence
To them, they were surreal. But it grew nice after a time.
Just like the guy who never got paid attention to in middle
School, It was a place that most people looked at as
Different. Everybody there was nice. Kids were raised
To be right. To serve others, but I compare it to dystopia.
Because it’s not how the real world is. Utah was a bubble
And I hope for it’s sake, it doesn’t pop. Now I’m somewhere new. Again.
While I was too young to remember, I’ve been here before.
Will it remember me, or has it forgotten?