Branded Orphan

Mother, father; family gone away
Countless children, lost strays
State now becomes their den
All these young women and men.

Boys to mills, girls to cook
Most become prostitutes or crooks
Better survival, in that profession
Rather than living in oppression.

Strangers visit with broad smiles
Kids align in single file
Hopes, dreams of a new abode
Not seeing the sinister road.

These times are tough, unkind
Thoughts swell an evil mind
Hungry, unemployed; comes solutions
Orphans worth cash; silent executions.

Body branded, bloodline forgotten
Families paid, kin lay rotten
All because of the mark on my skin
Story of branded orphans.

*Watched a program on History Channel about orphans growing up from the 1920's to 40's and how a law was passed to brand orphans with a certain mark so the adoptive family could get paid to take care of them. Once they reached a certain age, they were no longer useful, so the adoptive family would kill them and replace them with younger children. This is what inspired this poem.