I'm lucky I landed in a caring family.
I'm lucky they financially could afford me and other adopted children.
I'm lucky they actually wanted kids more than anything else.
I'm lucky they provided for me.
I'm lucky they were nice.
I'm lucky they understand now.
I'm lucky I now understand.
I'm lucky now I can appreciate.
I'm lucky now they appreciate my struggle.
I'm lucky to have broken through the fog.
I'm lucky to have a story and be able to tell it.
I'm lucky the story continues.
I'm lucky to have found my voice.
I'm luck to have found my tribe.
I'm lucky I got the "luck" of the draw.
I'm unlucky that I will never be able to know me true ancestry...some maybe, but never truly all of it.
I'm unlucky I will never be able to fully know my medical history.
I'm unlucky that it's not easy asking...feeling intrusive...like a beggar for any tiny scrap of information.
I'm unlucky to feel like an outsider.
I'm unlucky it's so damn hard.
I'm unlucky they don't understand.
I'm unlucky I don't understand.
I'm unlucky that I lose that voice sometimes...even now.
I'm unlucky I will most likely never be able to hold my original birth certificate in my own hands.
I'm unlucky that I have to beg for what is rightfully already mine.
I'm unlucky the state deems me less important than the people who created me.
I'm unlucky I have to mark a big red X on any medical questioniare.
I'm unlucky that big red X makes my eyes water in public.
I'm unlucky to get that head-tilt sad look from the doctor and nurses and hear that hushed "ohhh..."
I'm unlucky that even now it's hard to explain.
I'm unlucky there's a lump in my throat sometimes..still.
I'm unlucky tears get triggered at the smallest of things.
I'm unlucky to be told how lucky I am.