Unhappy Cuckoos (Poetry)

Is it the refuge
of some unhappy
children to wonder —
fantasize about
their true parentage —

maybe imagine
they were somehow swapped
at birth — a mistake
made by a midwife
mixing up babies

and their real mother
and father — always
the storybook kind —
were out there somewhere
waiting to be found?

Such ideas soothe the
lonely sleepless nights
keep small hearts hopeful
warm in the belief
rescue is coming ...

Time passes — they grow
mute with acceptance
their not-belonging
is just who they are
and nothing will change