what is wrong with
these people,
these strange people you often
thought of your family
when growing
up with them
in the same house.
why do they behave
this way,
how different you are from
them.
adoption comes to mind,
found in a basket
perhaps on the door step, left
by some passing stranger
with one too many
children to care for.
it's a wonderment,
the differences, even
now as we each turn grey.
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