Where I'M From... Poem by Alyssa Diane

I’m from cobblestone streets and warm sweet tea,
And the memories that seem to remind me,
That most things sometimes end sweetly,
I’m from cold December evenings tucked in by a warm crackling fire,
As my great grandmother read me a bed time with true desire,
And those dreams about sweet, warm apple cider,
I’m from hot days in winter, and cold in fall,
The weather starts to fail as a cold snow falls,
As the streets in London freeze over in a winter delight,
And I walk, not bothered with fright,
And then arrive home,
Drunk off of the sweet smells of flowers and sweet, bitter taste of tea,
Knowing soon I have to leave,
And I won’t have a choice,
But I don’t want to go,
I want to stay in London,
Walking the streets of gold,
Knowing this is my town, and this is were I belong.