Lost and Forgotten

Discharged into the arms of a stranger              
Wearing  a government badge
They sent him out into the world
All of three weeks old
“Public Hospital”
Stamped in blue ink
Across the back of his borrowed jumpsuit
Not even a bag
To carry his mother’s milk
Let alone to pack some dignity and respect into
And they said it was okay…

“This is your new home”
They told him
Pointing to the bare grey concrete floors
And the musty, worn sheets on the bed
A frozen pie for dinner
$1.99..is what you are worth
While he watched them eat steak 
It was a roof over his head
He should be grateful
And he was reminded so every day…

He dared not move
As they pinned down his arm
For “You have been a bad boy !”
Said the scalding hot water
As he looked the other way
But “..accidents happen”
The perpetrator said
Easier to turn a blind eye
He watched the officials slink away
After telling him he was “okay”

These are the stories of the little ones…
Who simply want a safe space to play
And ‘tell someone whom you trust in’
Is all we have to say

April 28, 2010 | Categories: Poetry | Tags: abused children, child abuse, child protection, childhood, childhood trauma, foster care, Poetry, prose, Writing | 16 Comments