At the age of 5 I had to go
live in an Orphan's home.
Seems that Mother didn't want
us kids, after Daddy died.
The children there were crul
to strangers, and I was small for my age.
People came,
looking for kids of their own
Try you out, like a used car.
If they didn't like you.
then they brought you back.
seem like I got brought back a lot.
That first year at Christmas time,
they gave away presents(one per child)
according to age. I was to get
a plastic machine gun..Boy I could not wait.
I stood in line, with lots of ideas of how
I would be an out-law, or marshel. Shucks
I could be any one.
Then I got to the end of the line.
'You are too small', said the man. Here
take this. A bag of fruit.
And that is how the toy,
was never given.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem