I found this template online for creating your own unique poem. It's a mix between MadLibs and true sentimentality. You can see mine below. If you do one, please let us all have a peek.
I am from _______ (specific ordinary item), from _______ (product name) and _______.
I am from the _______ (home description... adjective, adjective, sensory detail).
I am from the _______ (plant, flower, natural item), the _______ (plant, flower, natural detail).
I am from _______ (family tradition) and _______ (family trait), from _______ (name of family member) and _______ (another family name) and _______ (family name).
I am from the _______ (description of family tendency)
and _______ (another one).
From _______ (something you were told as a child) and _______ (another).
I am from (representation of religion, or lack of it). Further description.
I'm from _______ (place of birth and family ancestry), _______ (two food items representing your family).
From the _______ (specific family story about a specific person and detail), the _______ (another detail), and the _______ (another detail about another family member).
I am from _______ (location of family pictures, mementos, archives and several more lines indicating their worth).
Charity's I AM FROM...
I am from a butterbean patch, from Grapico and melting asphalt roads.
I am from the cabin hidden behind the kudzu walls sprinkled with wisteria.
I am from the mossy glade in the woods, the sneezy air of the fescue season.
I am from cinnamon rolls on Christmas and straight A’s, from Fredericks and Momans, Smiths and Abercrombies.
I am from the love of grits and chocolate, just not together.
From the watermelon seed my mother swallowed and the rainy days made by dead snakes hanging on fences.
I am from song books and their covers’ crayon rubbings and from altar calls in humid campmeetings.
I'm from Sand Mountain, goldwater salad and tomato biscuits.
From the trenches of the Battle of the Bulge, the army kitchen in the Philippines, the pulpit and pastoral studies.
I am from dirt roads, dark narrow hallways lined with people’s faces, the South.