I Was Called
"That Foster Kid"
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By
Linda Gray-LeBlanc
SEVEN LITTLE SISTERS
by
Linda Gray LeBlanc
Seven little sisters are now alone
Sent to the Orphanage, they have no home
In a small room they sit and wait
For the matron to come, what is their fate
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In the horror room we had to stay
Till all our head lice had gone away
We ate and slept, we played in there
For two long weeks we lived in fear
In our beds we could not sleep
We laughed out loud, played hide and seek
The matron comes in, she is so mad
The bed-jackets are put on, were we so bad
We lay there now, tied to our beds
Crying out loud for Mom and Dad
Why are we here, when can we go home
We are not orphans, but we sob alone
Our dad came to see us, we were so glad
He brought us an orange, he looked so sad
At the fence he would stand, watching us play
He never came in, he just went away
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Our mother came a couple of times
Wanted to know if we were all fine
But how could we tell her we were so scared
She was the one who had put us here
Then one day we were taken away
Into foster homes we had to stay
We were now split up and all alone
Never again to go back home
You try to fit in, call them Mom and Dad
But the things they say, you feel real bad
You build a wall, you cry alone
Many times, you run away from home
Who do you talk to when things are bad
Who gives a darn when you are sad
You have no friends, the kids are cruel
That foster kid is what you are called in school
It's been years since we went to the home
We're getting old, grandchildren of our own
Tell them our story, how we were given away
Those little girls, now getting old and grey
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But God will be waiting, we hope and pray
When the Angels come to carry us away
Seven little sisters who were so alone
Will cry no more, for they have come HOME
THE ORPHANAGE
By
Linda Gray-LeBlanc
Life in the Orphanage had its ups and downs
There were many children, their face had that frown
Some were orphans, some were just like us
No parents to love them or make a fuss
At meal time you lined up, down the stairs you go
Stand at your chair, until the matron said so
You ate what was on your plate, be glad what you had
You remembered at home, things had been so bad
I remember eating meat, spitting out the fat
The matron stands over you, she gives you a bat
You are forced to eat it, even though you gag
I threw up all over her, that taught the old bag
One night a matron was giving me a bath
Somehow she got frustrated, she gave me a slap
Then took my head, under the water she held me
I thought I was a goner, but somehow I broke free
Chocking and crying, I ran to my bed
The head matron had seen, what that lady did
She fired that woman, marched her out the door
Then came back to comfort me, my neck was sore
My sister wet the bed, just about every night,
Under the beds she crept, until mine was in sight
Early in the morning, the bedding we would change
It had to be done, before the matron’s came
If you were bad, or disobeyed the rules
The matrons there could be very cruel
On the bottom you were spanked with a wooden paddle
Hiding from them was a hard day’s battle
Sometimes at night, you had to stand behind a door
An hour you stood there, not sit on the floor
Sometimes they forgot you; your legs would give out
On the floor you would fall, trying not to shout
Many years have gone, that place I remember well
The good and the bad, stories I can tell
Maybe it was better, than with Mom and Dad
All I know is, my life was so so sad
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MY FOSTER HOME MEMORIES
by Linda Gray-LeBlanc
My foster home was suppose to be
A place where all your fears are free
To fall asleep and worry not
That you will wake, not screaming a lot
Are they supposed to be your Mom and Dad
Take care of you, not make you feel bad
So why do they say the things they do
Who do you ask that question too
You spend your time crying alone
Wishing you could just go back home
But you know that will never be
Your mother says she wants to be free
Many a night I lie in my bed
Sobbing and crying, I wish I was dead
I am not wanted here, who can I tell
My sister’s not here, she would give them hell
Last Sunday I went to Church to pray
That my life would change, maybe today
That I could be happy, smiles on my face
If only I could tell someone, then I could be safe
But I am only a foster child, how can I tell
Who would believe, I was living this hell
These parents are respected, who would ever see
How they mentally abused and did things to me
If only I had a friend, maybe even two
Life could have been easier, not so blue
But the kids, they never played with me
What was wrong, I just could not see
Why did they call me that foster kid
The young and the old, that’s what they said
If only they knew, how it hurt me so
To be so unwanted, where could I go
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I tried running away, get away from the abuse
But each time I was brought back, what was the use
Why didn’t someone see, something was not right
When a child runs away, what is her fright
When I think of it now, I wish I had been strong
To been able to say, what your doing is wrong
If only I had fought back, not take their abuse
Instead I’m still suffering, I have found no truce
Memories of those days, are so fresh in my mind
It’s been fifty years, peace I want to find
So I write my poems, it releases my fears
They help me get over, those awful years
Please send me an email if you have any questions or would like to add to the Orphanage web pages. To order a book, send me an email and I can give you the info on how to get a copy.
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