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.