Sometimes

This is a poem i wrote about what i feel sometimes when i think about being adopted.

Sometimes

Sometimes I think about who I could be.

I wouldn’t want to be any one but me

But sometimes I think

Sometimes I wonder

Would I be me if I had lived my life somewhere else?

If I had never been and adopted?

Would I be the Leah Hutchinson I know of today

Or would I be a totally different person?

Sometimes when I think about it I start missing that me

The me I could have been

The me I’ll never be

Sometimes I get mad at myself for wishing for something thats not better

But would it be?

Sometimes I think could it have been better if I had gotten the chances to be that me?

Sometime I’m angre at the people who took me away from there

The people who love me

Sometimes I’m madbecause I want to see what I could have been

Most times I’m grateful

I’m glad I’m me, this me,

I feel that sometime children who are adopted go through a stage in their life were they start to think and wonder

What if, could this have been this way or that?

Sometimes I think we go through emotions of anger, longing, hoping, wishing wanting, but never getting

No matter what my parents say to me no matter how they show me that it’s better to be this me

There is always in the back of my mind, could I have been a better me?

I’ve wondered about the lady who brought me into the world

I wonder what she was like.

I wonder am I anything like her, will I be anything like her, would I want to be anything like her?

What did I get from this faceless nameless women who brought me into this world?

Would I like what I saw if I ever saw her?

Sometimes I get mad at her and I think why did you give me away did.

Sometimes when I feel low I think you gave me away because you didn’t want me, thou know that’s not true.

No matter how much my mum and dad say we love you, we picked you, I never feel like I truly belong to them

When I was younger I got jealous of my younger siblings.

The reason was they came from my parents.

They were there flesh and blood.

When you looked into their faces you could see my parents staring back.

I wanted that I wanted to be able to look at my mother and go

yes that’s the same smile,

yes that’s the same noes.

But that’s never going to happen because they didn't make me.

I’m not resentful of them taking me away from that places but sometimes I wonder was it truly right for me. Would I feel this way now if I was back there?

I should hope and think not.

It’s good to be me

But sometimes just sometimes I wonder is this really me