Erased

An empty blackboard stands alone
they erased who I was and gave me a new
home.
Liquid paper where my life use to be.
how could they take that away from me?
Did they really believe that I’d never question,
what they gave me as a definition
of the person that I was suppose to become,
& never look back on where I came from?
Where does one really draw the line,
on how much past you can leave behind?
They expect of us what they themselves
could not do.
Despite what they say, I am searching.
Wouldn’t you?