I am from nursery rhymes and baby toys all over the house.
You can blame it on my sister.
I am from gardening tools scattered all over the front yard.
It’s impossible to take me away from them.
I am from the bikes in my neighborhood,
Frequently whizzing by.
I am from my grandparents
Always giving me a warm feeling,
I am from “carry your sister” and “play with your sister”
You can tell she’s certainly entertained.
I am from Indian curry, dosa, sambar, idli, and rice served on the table.
A meal that will leave your tongue begging for more.
I am from that special secret place,
Where all my darkest secrets are stored there.
I am from my family.
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