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Hey little brother, I watched you grow before my very eyes I tried to protect you and your little heart from the lies I think back to when you were 5 and my tears flow The things that were going on, how could you know?
I am a foster youth, I am the voice of countless others Though my lips speak, this is the voice of my sisters and brothers The voice of those that are still silent in despair
I accept the things I cannot change because the past will forever be the same my mistake are meant to remain
Reach for the stars they say but they dont know what its like day by day they play us like pawn in a simple game moving us, directing us in their own way   However thats not how it's going to go
You were young, but old enough to remember it all. Your eyes fillled with hope, Ideal to take as their own.
If I would have cried and begged you to stay in your arms, would you have kept me? would you have let me be? was it easier to turn your back on me? who were you truely setting free? you or me?
"You did this" I think this as I try to sleep my first night at my fourth foster home that year. I am ony six years old. As that night was not cold, my heart was chilling to my soul,
run little baby girl, let the wind and the sirens comfort you as you go, run as fast as you can, get as far away as you can it's okay, it's not like the others will ever understand
They cry and scream, You do nothing but sit, They just want attention, You do nothing but sit, They are your child, You do nothing but sit, They leave your house, You do nothing but sit,
Take my hand, sweet child of mine And let me guide the way. Just wrap your hand around my fingers And hear what I must say. Listen close to what I speak And I’ll show you how life is true.
You were not there, when I scraped my knees.Or when my boyfriend got down on his When I threw my graduation cap in the air.Or decided to donate all my hair. When I hit puberty,and eventually became pretty.
There's a lot that I'm thankful for, but there is one particular thing that I'll forever be thankful for. In my time of struggle, my aunt and uncle took me in, making me feel like one of their own.
Why do you think I argue? Why do you think I scream? It’s not because I hate you, And it’s not an evil scheme.
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