My Dad was hard man,
Doing dodgy MOT's,
Always in the back lanes,
On the back foot,
Taking back hands,
Making deals.
He wasn't there a lot and neither was my Mother,
Both busy,
Doing their own thing,
And we wasn't worth the bother!
My Dads name for me was 'little bastard'
My Mother called me 'a little lad in drag'
She wouldn't buy me pretty things,
What all the other girls had.
So I spent my youth in dirty joggers and Karki pants,
Causing mischief on the chicken fields.
While my sister threw wild house parties,
We weren't the sort to do family meals.
Then one day my Mother up't and left us,
For some cheesy club singer,
And I watched my dad in days to come buy a gun and threaten to kill her.
She didn't come to see us much after all of that,
Which in some ways was a blessing, but also the straw that broke the camels back.
You see, my Dads behaviour escalated,
And though he left my sister well alone,
I knew what would be waiting for me,
On a night when I got home.
I was a substitute for my Mother in every damning way,
If I wasn't some use to my Dad,
I was cast out like a stray.
So I stayed out late and later,
Wondering the streets,
I'd feed the gypsy horses or be shoplifting sweets.
And the years clocked by quite quickly,
Back then I wasn't older than eight,
By the time I was a pre teen,
I was full of rage and hate!
I was a feral little creature,
Who had never known real love,
My Dad could barely look at me these days,
And I survived years without a simple hug.
One night all the pressure and the secrets,
It all came to ahead,
And I took a lethal overdose as my Dad lay asleep in bed.
It only took a couple of days for everything to change,
All my worldly possessions stuffed in two black bags,
As a social worker led me away.
They drove me to a house I'd never seen before,
Where a large, shapely woman opened the front door.
At first I was nervous,
As she signed my life away,
And the reality dawned on me,
That this is where I had to stay.
That evening I cried,
God I cried myself to sleep.
And this large, shapely woman stayed at my bedside,
And didn't make a peep.
She just wrapped her arms about me,
Held me closely to her chest,
Rocked me like a baby and encouraged me to rest.
I didn't stay with her for very long,
Social services move kids about,
But if I'm to talk to you about family,
Then without any - shadow - of a doubt:
In that single act of kindness,
She Taught me more than any other,
When she opened up her heart and home,
To become my Foster Mother.
The intention of my poem is to maybe plant a seed,
Of children and young people,
in our own communities,
Who are very much in need.
There is a shortage of foster families,
Numbers at an all time low,
So kids like me who are "hard to love"
Have no where else to go.
So before we cast out our little vagabonds,
Because we mean you no harm at all,
But There's just not enough kindness and love in the world,
It's a shame there's not more families and homes.
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