Why do we do the things we do,
why do we care about who is who?
I got my start many years ago,
for expressing my feelings in a poem was the only way to go.
Suffering the loss of my mother,
never got a chance of living with my sister or brother.
From being dragged all over the country,
and being someone who just wasn't me.
I didn't talk much, not because I was scared,
I just thought that no one cared.
Spent my Christmas in foster care,
which I felt just wasn't fair.
Then I got that call one day,
"You're coming with me, and you'll have a place to stay".
I flew back home the very next day,
no longer would the cloud over my head be grey.
My grandparents adopted me,
and as a child, I was finally free.
They took me in when things were arry,
They lifted my head and told me not to cry.
Although I'm 17 now I still mourn the loss of my mother,
she can never be replaced by any other.
Some may ask, "Why write this poem?",
I reply, "Maybe they'll understand, if I just show them."
This is more than just a poem that I have written,
It's my life, that I have lived in.
So with a bit of my story told,
a little bit of my life is with you, that you now hold.