Open Wounds
Children of Immigrant Parents
My childhood is filled with painful memories,
Most of them consist of “mami, no te vayas*”
And “te extraño**” whispered through a phone.
Although I don’t recollect much,
I know it hurt deep inside,
You see...Mami had to leave,
She wanted to give me the best she could
And, so I had to stay behind.
Begging through a phone,
“mami por favor, regresa a mi.†”
My childhood was like most...
Us, the children of immigrants grow to,
Parents leaving us behind
They work and work hard
To reach the American Dream
For us, their children.
Distance becomes our worst demon,
Deportation our frenemy.
Yeah, my childhood is filled with painful memories,
Full of “what ifs” and “I wish,”
Now I sit in my room, here in North America,
Wishing I could close the wounds
Wounds, millions of children of immigrants deal with.
*"Mommy, do not go"
**"I miss you"
†"Mommy please, come back to me."
About the Creator
Gabriela Linares
Just a girl trying to share her words and dreams.
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