Hope

I was seven, naive to the world around me.
I can still smell the rubbing alcohol and the antiseptics.
The room was white with faded green shades,
The air was cold.

I tried to look anywhere but at my mother.
With all these wires and machines hooked up to her,
She was almost unrecognizable.

Her once shoulder length black hair was now gone
Her full lips were now dry,
Her slim model like body was now skin wrapped around bones
Through all her misfortune and pain
She always kept her loving and vibrant personality.
Her face might have looked like a woman dying, but her eyes always held hope.

After going to the hospital everyday, I grew to be fond of it.
I was captured by the concept of providing guidance to someone in need
making them better when they're at their worst.
I admired how in the medical field you work with one common goal,
To make the patient leave better than when they came in.
I hope to be a nurse, help the people in need and give them
Hope

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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