At times it was difficult for me to get close to people,
I had gotten used to them coming and going,
This started so young for me--living in an orphanage from less than two to twelve.
When I made friends at school at least they did not come and go,
Sadly, though one day I was told I would be going home with my folks.
How could I explain I did not know them?
I was closer to other relatives.
I would be enrolled in a new school.
Every sense of who I was--lost in a decision I did not make.
Don't get me wrong,
I learned to respect my parents and even to love them in my own way,
They simply could not care for me,
But they never outright abandoned me.
Now I search for friends from youth in the faces I see,
Some of us have reconnected.
Some seem to be lost in the sands of time.
If by chance you happen to read this,
Know that I am looking still,
You were, are and always will be my friends.
I will remain an open book,
So perhaps one day what I write will help one of you.
Thank you to all who made me who I am.
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