The Nature of Being Adopted

I’m expected to do as I’m told

I’m expected not to question them

But in my heart I know this

This is not what I want

They think I should be grateful

They think I should be happy

But this is not the way I feel

My mind is clouded with hurt

They give me the grunt work

They ask me to get little things

“Can you get me some soda?”

“While you’re up can you…?”

I can’t stand the atmosphere I’m in

This air feels toxic and cold

This is supposed to be home

But to me this is a prison

Why am I put through this?

Why can’t they see what they’re doing?

I shouldn’t have to bow to them

And I shouldn’t be treated like a maid

I am a daughter

Not a slave

I am an adoptee

Not a minority