Patrick Chuka
Patrick Chuka

Story-Teller

Designer

Creative

Patrick Chuka

Story-Teller

Designer

Creative

Blog Post

“Best People I Have Met in America”- Poetry(with Images)

07 Apr 2024 Poetry
“Best People I Have Met in America”- Poetry(with Images)

Best People I have met in America

In the streets of California, where fate had me,

An african boy, lost and unsure, barely free.

The land of burritos and Carlos, a place to explore,

Spanish names adorned each city, a cultural door.

San Francisco, San Mateo, San Jose y San Rafael,

A world to discover, stories to tell.

But I couldn’t do it alone, I needed a guide,

Then I met the Mexicans, their hearts open wide.

Los mexicanos, the purest souls I’ve ever known,

Their hearts so warm, their kindness over flow.

They took me in, made me feel at home,

I had found my tribe, I was no longer alone.

They taught me Spanish, palabra por palabra,

Translating my pain, mi voz fue escuchada.

In a state of oppression, their resilience a light,

Family and community, their strength, their might.

The kindest, most precious people on Earth,

Their warm hearts and kind words, a treasure of worth.

They showed me around, taught me new things,

Translated my pain into hope, gave my soul wings.

Then I met los puertorriqueños, another tribe so dear,

Their kindness and warmth, chasing away my fear.

The Puerto Ricans, El mas dulce folks around,

With hearts of gold, their love so profound.

They embraced me tight, when I was down,

I had found my tribe, in this new town.

They fed me when hunger came to call,

Taught me Spanish, so I could stand tall.

In my hungriest hours, they fed me with care,

In my lowest days, me consolaron, they were always there.

They showed me beauty, from deep within,

To trust in Dios, through thick and thin.

Los Cubanos came next, with their joyous ways,

Humble and supportive, guiding me through my darkest days.

The Cubans, the most precious of them all,

With warm embrace, eager to answer when I call.

Their joy contagious, their humility true,

I had found my tribe, a bond so new.

They clothed me in love, made me one of their own,

Taught me Spanish, so I wouldn’t feel alone.

I came to America, unsure what I’d find,

But God led me to my Hispanic brethren, people so kind.

Mexicans, Puerto Ricans, and Cubans, I love them all,

Without their love and support, surely I would fall.

Their warmth and good energy, a blessing to me,

A bar set high, a standard very few can meet.

Natives of this land, their true home, they cannot claim,

Conquistadors reshaped it, but that raw love remains the same.

For it’s not about the land, but the people inside,

The love and the light, in their hearts, still resides.

In this tale of kindness, love, and unity,

I found my place, my family, my community.

Forever grateful for the bonds that we share,

My Hispanic brothers and sisters, always there.

In the face of oppression, we stay the course,

Our love and resilience, an unstoppable force.

From the streets of California, where I once stood,

To the depths of my heart, where our love has withstood.

The tests of time, the trials we face,

Together we stand, in this great embrace.

The Mexicans, Puerto Ricans, and Cubans, my kin,

With them by my side, I know I’ll always win.

They taught me Spanish, they taught me love,

They showed me the beauty of the stars above.

In this land of opportunity, where dreams can come true,

Encontré una familia, en el gran rojo, blanco y azul.

But the colors that matter, are the ones in our hearts,

El amor that we share, that never departs.

Gracias…mis hermanos, mis hermanas, mis amigos,

For the love that you’ve given, simply never goes.

In this tale of kindness, love, and unity,

I found my home, my tribe, my community.

With Love,

Chu

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