In the heart of West Colonial’s steady stream,
I found a portal, like a waking dream.
Past the asphalt and the neon glare,
A hidden passage waited for me there.
I crossed the threshold, left the street behind,
To see what ancient wonders I might find.
No longer Orlando—the air began to change,
With scents of roasted chilies, bold and strange.
The walls spoke tales in colors bright and deep,
Of secrets that the dusty highlands keep.
I discovered gold, not in a pirate’s chest,
But in a bowl of queso—the city’s very best.
The salsa was a fire, a bright and crimson sun,
Telling me my journey had only just begun.
With every corn tortilla, warm and pressed by hand,
I tasted the soul of a far and distant land.
I found my El Dorado in a sizzling plate,
Where spices danced and decided my fate.
The service was a welcome, a warm and friendly hand,
Guiding this explorer through a flavor-heavy land.
So if you seek adventure on a Tuesday night,
And crave a world of wonder and culinary delight,
Set sail for Azteca, where the spirit is true—
I discovered Mexico, and you can find it too.