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Puzzle Pieces of Memories This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This work has won the Teen Ink contest in its category.

I hear kids talk in the hallway
About their “horrible” mothers.
And like I always do, I ask
What is it like to have a mother?
I wouldn't know.
Last I saw my mother, she was lying in a ­hospital bed,
Pale, tired, weak and suffering.
I can remember each night when it was time for bed
She would kiss me three times andin between she would say
“Peace, love, happiness”
I can remember she use to slide her hand
In the direction my hair flowed to ease me.
The rest is like puzzles.
I remember her work clothes and some jewelry she wore,
But I can't remember that very important piece of the puzzle,
Her face; her face is a blur in my eyes.
Every time I try to dream, it pains me not to see her face,
Her hopeful eyes and smile.
Five years gone by, 15 now
I still wonder why,
I still wonder where she is,
I still have hope of her coming back into my dreams,
And I still wonder if there's a God.
So every time I hear those kids talking in the hallway
About their “horrible” mother, I stop and say
I would trade you any day.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.

This work has won the Teen Ink contest in its category. This piece won the May 2011 Teen Ink Poetry Contest.






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