My Orphanage

I have been held in this orphanage for longer than my years.
I am made to eat this horrid porridge.
They box me on the
ears.
How often I vow to flee, to go.
But this is the
only home I know.
My stammered speech, my one suitcase,
My Orphanage, My hateful place.
Like that case, this
place I carry
Inside of me.
It’s not so very
heavy for a stocky child.

They said my mama’s
loose.
They said she was wild.
Though I never knew or
saw that woman sent with me this fatal flaw.
My strange and
puffy moon-like face,
My Orphanage,
My hateful
place.
My stringy hair, my lack of grace,
My
Orphanage,
My hateful place.

I could have been
lucky like them
Happy families
Look in my
Dark,
rotted heardened heart and you will see:

The downcast
glance, the empty embrace
Of my orphanage,
My hateful
place.

I’m an evil thing.
I am way full of
something
That was left by the side of the road.
I am
chipped, curly-lipped.
Never any kindness was shown.

No one else is here,
My Orphanage, My Dear.

It’s in me. It’s a part.
My Orphanage, My
Heart.