Lights from their homes twinkle at me
From where I stand in my universe.
The lights in the trees are all they show
Of their world to mine.
I want to live there in their treehouses
But they forgot me, left me behind.
I cried when they took the others,
But they could not find me in the
Cubby hole under our house where my
Mother had hidden me.
I never forgave her for that.
So now I stare at their ghost images
Through the window and can only imagine
What kind of life I might be living
With them, if those who said they loved
Me had not denied me my destined life.
UNCC, 19th birthday