Possum's Poem.

Once there was a time - when I was the HAPPY adoptee,
Clouded by the "magic" of the happy adoption tree.

I would rarely ask those questions, that so hurt my mother dear,
She didn't like me asking, she just didn't want to hear.

The masses think adoption's great, it's one happy theme park ride,
The remarks from people unaffected, just make me want to hide.

They make me feel the thoughts I think, are unworthy for all to hear,
"The stuff that happened in your life, you should be grateful, dear."

Why is it when I find my voice, so many shoot me down,
I'm sure that they just want me, to continue playing clown.

So often have I hidden, behind my adoptee mask,
Sometimes I don't know who I am, I often need to ask.

For years I have been yearning, for absent knowledge deep inside,
That always has me thinking, for which often makes me hide.

Why was I given up from birth, what ever did I do,
To make my mother feel that way, I can’t know - “It wasn’t You”.

No one has ever told me, it's OK to feel such pain,
I fight the feelings deep inside, as I'm unable to explain.

To feel some validation here, it is some kind relief,
To make me feel that I’m not strange, to help me fight the beast.

When will the day arrive at last, for everyone to say,
Perhaps we made a few mistakes, ADOPTION is NOT the way.