The Unwanted Child

They said I was lucky, that love had chosen me,

As though a foreign branch could graft onto a family tree.

They called me home, yet part of me stayed behind,

Still reaching for the hands I never got to find.

They praised the life another heart could bring to be,

While I still grieved the first abandoning I'd seen.

They celebrated every fresh beginning,every brand-new day,

But never spoke of the first goodbye that never went away.

I learned to make myself quiet, grateful, and small,

For I was the child who feared love can leave me after all.

I disappeared  into the dark before they noticed anything,

And in that moment silence crowned me the unwanted thing.

My blood became a language no one else could read,

A map of missing names and unanswered need.

Each answer only caused more questions to arise,

I searched for someone else to blame until I realized.

You cannot mend forgotten roots with borrowed grace,

Nor erase the ache no love could quite replace.

But I was never born to carry someone else's shame,

Their leaving was their choice, not mine to claim.

I am more than empty pages, more than lives I'll never know,

More than silent gardens where abandoned children grow.

You may have left my story before it found its wings,

But I refuse to end it as the unwanted thing.