Presenting Foster Boy

You did your best with little

interest in your well-being

money for your keep

the common denominator,

as you fear-stepped

from one set of personalities

to the other -- foster child

of the working class.

One home to many others

finally surviving the last,

where a slap then strap

was a fist against your heart.

You did the best with guts

within your thin frame --

into the fire of Juvenile Court,

group homes and cells

of Springhill and Westmorland

where men eyed the young

with doe eyes and blond

features. You grew hard with

rage, unleashed like a whip

snaking out and cutting deep

into the skin of your critics.

Do not harden your heart  

to love that surrounds. This is

an end of the line story. We

adopted you into the DNA of

our lives. And you accepted.