I’m from the smell of the
hot chocolate that mum
prepares every morning.
From the warmth of the
fire place on a cold
winter night.
I’m from my grandparents
That once told me that
I had to grow up and
leave all my toys in
an old bucket.
I’m from an old book
forgotten on a shelf.
I’m from the cries of my baby
brother asking for sweets

I’m from all the arguments that I’ve had

with my brother to get the remote control.
I’m from all those basket matches
that I’ve seen with Dad
I’m from all the discussions that my
Friends have had
And I’m from a hidden diary in the
Corner of my room
Waiting for me to open it again so
that I can remember where
I’m Really From