Adoption
don’t you realize?
all men are children
and ache for a playful spirit.
oh, they wait with a temper
stomping, crying, asking,
throwing their hearts,
and eating their minds away
with sparkles, thrills, images
like their reflection.
and i am an orphan
wanting a father
longing for mother
kick-ing my legs
y a w n i n g
sleeping.
(missing someone, or something?)
oh my father,
who are you?
where are you?
And
why
am
i
?
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