The Adoptee (9.11.12)

A poem written from the perspective of a person victimized by closed adoption.

The Adoptee
(9.11.12)

Standing at a distance
They do not know we watch
They move with consistence
The same genetic swatch

The bones match each other’s
Their mannerisms alike
The face of the mother
Plastered on little tyke

Brother runs like father
Apple of daddy’s eye
Genetics no bother
Blood money cannot buy

Sold into blindness
Millions throughout the world
Living without likeness
Their past having been hurled

They’re told to be thankful
Told their loss was for love
They’re forced to be grateful
No savior from above

Standing at a distance
The world ignores our gaze
We are the forgotten
Alone for all our days