Autism
O, I love my dear boy
So dearly and so blindly
I will give him my blood
And life if God permits so
He's so weak and sick
So pallid and so tender
But I know he's an umbrella of snow
In the wide-brimmed form
A rhyme, a loft
Almost in the spelling of my own world.
Copyright © George Zamalea | Year Posted 2012
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