Dumpster Babies

I realized at the age of 19

As the puddle of piss at my feet began to cool

And I began to choke on a strangers spit

That I was not born into a world of love

No matter how much my mother insisted I was.

A world of love would be one that believed me

One where I wouldn't have anything to report in the first place.

A world of love would be one where children are protected from harm.

In an ideal world, a child would not have to be an adult

And an adult would not be trapped as a child.

Now I play with the other children left to rot in the dumpster

The ones who were not protected or believed

The ones born into worlds of fear.

We pilot overgrown bodies with minds stuck in 2007

Keeping ourselves alive the only ways we know how.

We are to old to still be children

And no one has sympathy for us anymore.

Our parents will not cradle us

And the police will not save us.

No one is going to care for us but ourselves.

We were born into a world of fear

One where children are made to be adults

But despite this we thrive.

Me and the dumpster babies will laugh and play

We will survive another day, and when the night comes

Our fingers will switch from being stuck in our mouths and noses

And we will fall asleep with the warmth of one another's body heat.