Adoption

A quiet sadness that never leaves

A heart that always grieves

A grief unknown until late

What to do to make it abate?

Has time run out to heal?

Is it possible to reveal

My truth, my whole self

So long in a box, buried deep

On a (metaphorical) shelf

I didn’t know

Until I knew

Why I am the way I am

I hate to say it was all a sham

But digging deep

Just below the surface of what the world shows

(and wants you to believe)

You see, the truth they want to keep

Is it too late?