Not From America Poem By Mark Vazquez

I'm walking around this iron and metal city. It's nothing like Spain, Spain isn't as modern as this place. It's more old and quiet. It's not as loud as this place. Everywhere I go I see people talking and talking and talking. Nobody is never keeping their mouths closed. I also notice these these weird red puppets that expect money from you if you take a photo with them. I kind of like it, but yet i am afraid of this place that some people call home, but this place is definitely not home for me. My home is back in Spain. Although I do notice that a lot of people speak Spanish here. People from Puerto Rico, Cuba, Dominican Republic, Argentina and other Spanish-speaking countries.This place is interesting, it has poeple from all over the world, Italy, France, Germany, Ireland, my home country Spain and way more countries. I miss home, but I'll be back soon once I get bored with New York. But for now New York is my hotel and Spain is my home.