Lost And Forgotten Innocence Poem by Ophelia Zakias

The world can be cruel, especially to innocent children who don't deserve to suffer the way I did. Being taken away from my mother at six was traumatizing enough, but being separated from my brother and placed into a foster home made it worse. Three years of adjusting and growing close to my foster parents felt like an eternity, but it was nothing compared to the news our social worker brought that fateful day.

Adopted? The word sounded foreign and unnatural to me. I already had a mother who loved us, and I couldn't bear the thought of calling someone else 'Mommy.' The idea of having new parents with new names felt like an identity theft. I had a name already, one that my mother had given me and I was proud of. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. The happiness I had found in my foster home was at stake, and I didn't know what to do.

But what could a six-year-old do against the will of the adults around her? My mind became overwhelmed with anxiety and frustration. I didn't know how to articulate my thoughts or express my emotions in a way that would make them listen. And so I acted out. I broke things and smashed up the house, hoping someone would finally hear me.

But it only made things worse. The social worker came back and decided that I was too much trouble, and so I was removed from the home without my brother. The loneliness and pain of losing him on top of everything else felt unbearable.

Looking back now, I wish someone had listened to me, heard me out, and tried to understand how I was feeling. But sometimes the system fails us, and we have to find the strength within ourselves to cope with the challenges life throws our way. I've grown stronger since then, but the scars still linger, a reminder of a childhood I never got to fully experience.