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Writing > Users > Hannah > 2008

Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction


The following is a piece of writing submitted by Hannah on February 27, 2008
"This didn't take as long as it says. I got majorly distracted. :)"

Mine to Hold, Mine to Love

Her eyes look at me;
her eyes so expressing love.
Such loving innocence;
so much innocent trust.

Their trust is often shoved aside;
as are they.
I still can't believe one of those
lovable beings is mine.

She is mine to hold,
mine to love.

I hug and kiss her soft, pink face.
I laugh as she laughs;
I cry as she cries;
I wake when she wakes;
I play when she plays;
I fall when she falls.

She calls me to her.
She tells me stories.
She sings and dances proudly.
I still tuck her in at night,
though she tells me,
"I'm a big girl.”
She'll always be my baby.

She is mine to hold,
Mine to love.

Her friends I don't trust,
though they are young,
children can be cruel.
They can hate more than some adults.
I try to keep her from pain.
She finds it anyway.

She is growing;
I hate that she is.
She comes home blushing and smiling,
I ask her "what's up?"
She tells me of the boy;
the boy who has caught her eye.

She is mine to hold,
mine to love

She invites girls to the house.
I don't know them.
They laugh and joke,
and talk of boys and nail polish.
They talk of celebrities and singers,
music and movies.
They scream and laugh.

She wears clothes that shock me,
though I know
I wore much the same things at her age.
She is gorgeous;
my little girl is little no more.

She is still mine to hold,
mine to love

He comes over;
she introduces me to him.
I can't believe my eyes;
he can't be as young as she says.
He isn't good enough for her;
no one will ever be;
I will like no one she brings home.

She smiles sweetly to the camera;
her white dress flows around her,
her face glows, as does mine.
It is finally here;
her big day.
The day she had imagined for twenty years.

She is no longer
only mine to hold,
mine to love

He is good;
I love him as a son.
He is good for her;
I will miss her.
Though she will live close,
close isn't close enough.
I smile politely.

Her stomach protrudes
past her chest.
My little girl has one of her own.
I am happy.
I will spoil the being inside of her;
I will be a grandma.

He will be mine to hold,
mine to love.

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