Cheryl Ann Ross | + Follow Poet |
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Bastard Child

This poem is written to my “brothers and sister”, and those
terms I use lightly, I must say.
It wasn’t my fault mom ran off with my dad.  That she packed up
and left you that day.

I always felt that you all blamed me, for the day you woke up
and she was gone.
At least you had each other and your dad by your side. 
Not like me.  I was out there alone.

She threw me away also, to anyone who would take me. 
But it was always about you.
Like you didn’t even have a little sister.
I was tossed aside like an old worn out shoe.
 
I guess you never knew about the night I spent,
under a house, on the ground, in the snow.
No, it wasn’t my choice, but it was cold outside,
and I had nowhere else I could go.

I couldn’t wait for the morning to come. To
find some place to go to get warm.
I ended up downtown in a department store lobby, 
just wishing I’d never been born.

There were lots of times I found myself out on the street,
not knowing quite where I should go.
Alone and cold, in need of something to eat.
Where were you then, is what I want to know.

Oh! That’s right! You were all too busy! I forgot!
 You were all so wrapped up in your world.  
How did you go on without giving a thought,
to what was happening to this little girl.

I know that you’ve all been through hell and back too,
I guess we did the best with what we were given.
But I spend a lot of lonely hours wandering if you even
care that,  I too, am still among the living.

To sum it all up, it wasn’t my fault that she was 
a confused mom and wife.
 And, I just want to say, that I did always need you,
And wish you’d been part of my life.


Copyright:  February 15, 2006

Copyright © Cheryl Ann Ross | Year Posted 2006

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