The desert sand floating in the air,
The dry heat I can’t bear,
The torture and pain deep within,
Drag down with shame for some people’s sin.

The torture display with a deep scar,
The maternal abandonment right from the start,
The doings of so many wrongs,
I am left singing a sad song.

The blues no one wants to hear,
Truth is so very dear,
No one to want me for some time,
Then get ripped apart from the one that shines.

A place in the world where children should be safe,
What they give, they too take away.
The power they have had for sometime, to try to delay me knowing what’s rightfully mine,

The heart break that they created
a power to make you feel life is debated.
The age they would use,
To find you a home regardless of the abuse.

Left alone in a new world,
To be trusting of strangers they said were “well”
As you find the truth your heads left to twill

I gain noting from what they have done,
Yet when I was granted back my freedom, the price, they wanted photo’s of my first born,
When they told me this, it then dawned,

No, not mine.
Not in any lifetime.
I love my children, and that’s not a crime.
They will never get the new family I got,
Before that happens they can go to hell and rot.

My children are not apart of you sick evil plot,
No one has a right to take them and not care for them,
Then what??

To be in this place of power with no care at all,
And when they get abused they are alone with no one to call.