i wonder who you are
i don't think i'll ever know
i don't know if i really want to
and the truth is
you're not my real parents
my "adopted" ones are
did you hear my first word
or see my first dance recital?
do you know my favorite color
or what instruments i play?
you might know what time i was born
you might have seen my first smile
but were you there for me
during difficult times?
no, you weren't
you might know my eye color
so do most people i know
but you don't know my favorite book
and that is far more important
than the color of my eyes
or the time i was born
or my first smile
because you weren't here,
and that's what matters
YOU ARE READING
Raging Storm
Poetry{a storm may last a moment but a moment is all it takes} raindrops can be hurricanes, too. all raindrops end up in the ocean eventually, though. but we will rise again, learn to breathe again, because broken doesn't mean weak. A collection of poems...
