How I long to remove the rage
That’s etched upon his boyish brow
Unclench the fists so tight and tense
And smooth the lips shaped in a scowl
This child a pawn, a chess game piece
Jerked constantly between two homes
Addicted parents in selfish war
Then both disappear, the pawn is alone
So Corey moves to foster homes
One, then two, now ours makes four
He can’t relax or trust or feel
Or hope for more than a swinging door
We work to earn his trust each day
Gently, firmly, helping him grow
Challenging him to forgive and detach
From the depths of pain his soul must know
This is a very sensitive, caring write, Linda. I can't imagine what it means to live this way, to never belong. I hope you do connect. If caring is all it takes, you're there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The depth of this shines through, and the rhyme (rather than free verse) keeps it light, and shows that he has found a home where love and laughter likely abound. -chuck