Open Wounds

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."