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The Woman at the Door
Throughout my sixteen years of life
There is not a single gun, poison, or knife
That could bring more pain in a way
Then on that one dreadful day?.
There was a knock at the door and mom was in the shower.
I remember it was April 6th and the tenth hour.
I guess it would be good for me to say
That it happened to be my eighth birthday.
Mom yelled that she would answer the door if she could,
But she was in the shower and asked if I would.
I had many questions that lingered and hung,
but I guess my parents thought that I was too young.
That day was the hardest day I would ever cry
Because on that day I would uncover my parents lie.
That was the day that would break my heart.
I would finally know why my sister and I were born one month apart.
On that day I found out what was really true.
I learned why my eyes are brown and my mom's are blue.
Mom's skin was white and blonde was her hair.
I was brown and black, but I didn't care.
But as the story goes, I opened the door.
There stood a black woman who looked about twenty-four.
"Hello," she said, "I'm Brenda, your REAL mother"
(This is NOT a true story)
-January 22, 2001
