Foster Child- Angela McClintock

foster child

After the pain

The tears

The cries for momma

You lie in a strange bed

In a strange room

In a strange house

With strangers.

Your mind reaches out for truth

Desperately clawing at memories past

Seeking the answer to your only question

What did I Do?

You were ripped from your mother’s arm

As you screamed out her name

The echoes still reverberating

In your heart.

She didn’t respond

Reach back

Call out to you.

She just kept on sleeping.

The lady was nice

In this strange home.

They told you

you were safe

You would be ok

They would take care of you

The lady was nice

But she was not your mom

You look at the window

Watching the sun sink

Into the horizon

And you knew at that moment

You would never go home.

Angela McClintock is the Director of the Jefferson County Department of Human Resources in Birmingham, Alabama.  Working with Families in Crisis is her passion and life calling.  
Writing as a woman about the struggles of those who care for others brings me a calm fulfillment.  I write two blogs.  Water for Camels encourages Social Workers to keep up the good fight despite adversity, thanklessness and stress.  The other blog (from whence this poem originated) is called: The things I have seen and is published at Things I Have Seen: Blogging About Real Life.  this blog is much more personal and speaks to events and observations of my life.

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