“Fight it”

I get told I’m going into care,

Everyone looks and starts to glare,

I get in the car, tears roll down my face,

My heart is beating, it starts to race.

 

The car starts moving, my hand starts to wave,

I now feel as if I am trapped in a cave,

My stomach turns, what if I don’t like it?

I’m strong inside, I will have to fight it.

CARE STORY PAPERWORK IMAGE_4

 

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