Poem

That was a nice poem, ingodshands :)

:thankyou: Thankyou

Nice poem and expresses the feelings I had during my 18 yrs in foster care and some that remain yet today. Unfortunately there are not many places for former foster children to post not only poems but other things. Peace, Larry~

Thanks for saying my poem was nice! It came from my heart :) It was my first poem, though I am sure there will be more ;) There is a forum on here for fostered adults, though I don't think there is many of us on here. May check out your site, as I would be interested in reading your book. Collette

I checked out the fostered adult forum...you are correct little to no activity. It is too bad as I feel so many who endured the system could be helped by having a place to openly express themselves. I have some foster children sites but not sites for those of us that have aged out and are going on with our lives. Peace!

Thanks for posting your poem! Keep posting here and on the main foster board, I'm sure other foster parents would love the opportunity to know your feelings growing up in the system! Peace!

Thank you for giving me insight on how a former foster child feels. It's helpful in my dealings with my daughter.

Thankyou both for your encouraging comments, :thankyou: Collette

I remember my move to the last placement in fostercare, when I was almost 15 like it was yesterday, here in poem form explains my feelings at the time of the move. My Last Placement I was at school, it was the middle of the day Someone comes to take me out of class The Social Worker is here to take me away I had let myself become happy, made lots of friends More fool me, as it was coming to an end This time I have a choice, a Children's Home or a new foster family I choose the new family, no Children's Home for me I sit in the back of the Social Worker's car With only a bag of belongings that is familiar to me I am crying uncontrollably Why again? Why now? Why me? I see the Social Worker glance in his rear view mirror He is driving in silence, not knowing what to say If I make eye contact, he quickly looks away What must my new foster mother have thought When I turn up on her doorstep, totally distraught Her home seems welcoming, cosy and warm I see through my tears But at this moment in time, all I sense are my fears Collette