Kill The AM

(dedicated to all self-     

                centered Adopted Mother)

The boy was wrong all of his life.
Authorities once said,
Something not quite right, in his head.
On the playground, they called him Queer.
Still no one did he fear.
He was a Weirdo to all, who knew him.
A female friend, a bit older she had been,
Always addressed him as Creep,
Instead of Keith.

The boy became a sheep, and a ram, inside deep.

With love and compassion unceasing; You would think.
His parent would be kind?
You’d be surprised to know what you’d find.
It was she who said (she said),
You will never amount to much!
(Never! Never!)

The boy grew up
He lived his life
At a pace he took his time
10 years farther, behind
He climbed Sisyphus’ hill

Remembering what all’s been done.
Knowing what’s been done to all adoptees.
Calling for the killing of the AM.
But they’re not all the same.
Yours is no longer alive,
She died in 1985.

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