"Hello ... Goodbye". It's tearful torment

The restrictions of isolation are always bound to upset the mind and damage the physical being; as proved by myself alone.

You were taken, by no justifiable means. Yet they still dangle you in front of us; two balls of barbed wire replacing the comfort of wool to tease a streetwise but otherwise abandoned alley cat.

Naturally the contact is needed, you're our own flesh, bone and blood - and deserved given the false circumstances at hand.

Though I don't know what pains me the most - knowing you're not where you should be. Or, having to say goodbye after each hour out of the 168 they've stolen.

I wonder aimlessly, in desperate need of direction. I stand with our mother and wait to be called or needed. I am thrown head first into the playground of tearful torment, how I get to my feet recorded by waiting and critical eyes.

Do they see how absent I am? Seeing you both once a week isn't enough, of course baby steps are being made towards home but painfully slowly.

You both seem so distant. Surly I can't be so lost in which I have mistakenly walked away from you? Instead it would seem you have grown away from the family tree, families merging into a twisted, ugly structure.

No it will not be allowed to happen, and it is not the case. You were both severed from the family tree despite its protective barriers. Cut into with the chainsaw of protective law by the hands of a vengeful lumberjack controlled via a blood thirsty, yet failing, organisation.

You'll both come back, and I'll find my way. No more goodbyes from me. With us you'll stay.