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My Missing Piece

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I was told to forget my mother
I did not
I was told to wait
I am
I was told the pain would stop
It hasn’t
I was told that she didn’t want me
I was told to be grateful for my life
their words pierce me through as if by a knife
Do they know what its like to be given away
to hate yourself for even feeling this way.
Why didn’t she want me, was there something
Wrong with me?
On every birthday I wonder, just before I
go to sleep if she is thinking of me; wishing to god she didn’t give me up.
Does she have another family?
Did she tell them about me?
Have I ever seen her in the street?
maybe someday we just might meet.
Does she have curly hair or brown eyes
I don’t know where my soul lies.
The one question I would want to ask her is
was I a mistake?

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