Mama by Kaitlin B.

Mama, Mama I can’t find you. Always whenever you come to see me, you tell me these people aren’t my mom’s; they are just people and that I need to respect them, these people. But they aren’t my mother, you are, you tell me that you will come back soon. How soon is soon? Mama, where do you go? Where are you? These people, Mama, they're mean, haggy and old, no one really cares about me. Do you even care, Mama?

I remember Mommy; she is young and pretty, with dark hair and pretty green eyes. The picture, the only picture of my mama is the one that I have saved in my head. My only memory. Mama, she was the kindest lady you’d ever met, she had a wonderful personality that Mama did. These ladies that were my foster moms never had anything on Mama, sleeping in the tiny attic of the rickety old house, just like that stupid old wrinkly lady. Lovely pretty Mama who doesn’t know me. Who never comes to visit me. Who never cares about me. Who will never ever love me.  My mama won’t.

Even after all this time Mama doesn’t love me. I thought that maybe someday she would remember me and come to save me. But no, Mama leaves me all alone. I have never had any people who have ever loved or  cared about me. Nor will any other people will look at me with loving eyes or caring eyes and not even sympathetic eyes. Eyes of nothingness.