Sorry

I am from the Land of Mangos,

From a family farm,

The green ones not the yellow ones,

Hidden from my mom’s view

Best peeled, with salt.

I am from where traditions are always kept,

Respect the ones that respect you,

Where you always know who you are dealing with,

Where the young respect the old.

I am from deep inside the woods,

From where you can hear the melody of the parrots,

The breeze of the trees and air,

Keeping my thoughts in there,

And knowing the trees will hold them.

I am from a crowded place,

Where chickens are everywhere,

Everyone wants to get them,

To eat as chicken stew.

I am from The Smell of a River,

That everyone knows,

Deep inside there are people dancing,

I am from The Land of Trees,

Only green and old,

Still bringing color.

I am from The Traditional Food,

Tamales with coffee our specialty,

Miel con Quesillo another food that we love,

Repe is the food that keeps our tradition.

I am from a Small city,

Where everyone knows each other,

From not expensive, just normal,

Where everyone is looking at each other.