The Glass Was Half Full
The life of my Handicapped Son
Majority captured his appearance as half empty, I sore plenty within
Authority enraptured perseverance gifting handicapped with thicker skin
My next of kin, unstable to strangers, able to change if given a chance
But if the books cover appears simple, pages are only granted a glance
My friend’s glasses overflowing, growing, mine reluctant to surge
As they purchase more and more drinks..
..Links to alcohol see the fights emerge
I spend nights on the verge of tears, the years witness our heart ache
My larger goes flat, their bottles of wine mature with time like their taste
Placed in this situation our family’s destination is becoming scary
Faced with isolation being patient, do I need that full glass to feel merry?
No average berry, starved from fermentation so development is minute
I place blame on myself..
..a tasteful wine isn’t produced without beginning with tasteful fruit
a wasteful route is mapped for my son, his life has begun at the end
if he’s living it backwards, his maturity with time can only descend
I try to comprehend with my love, but it’s a struggle without a perk
If one half isn’t focused then you’re facing double the amount of work
His brain lurks between shadows, none elite how does my child compete?
Without a strong head on top, some suggest the larger is incomplete
My emotions so discrete, I retreat to being positive overall
Encouraging his love for football, knowing hell never be on the ball
And God will call my son in his prime, with time left to kill
His life left to fulfill minus the alcohol..
..my son lived short and corrupted, his life as a pill.
R.I.P To all those lives taken early to disabilities.
Signed
Jill Godfrey son of Andrew Godfrey who past away this year.
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