Disconnected

Disconnected I wish my child could write a poem and open his channels I need my channels open too, because no one’s talking to me. My loved ones and disliked ones whom have made their transition, none of them will talk to me, they pay me no attention. I need communication from the other side. I got channels to open, no one’s talking to me...not even my child. They gave my child a vaccination, which was so sadistic, they knew this batch of medicine could leave my child Autistic. So, I called upon the ancestors to help communicate. My babies like a zombie, there's no light in his eyes; They told me that he'd be just fine, but they were telling lies. The side effects were harmful, more harmful than the cure, I hate what I am thinking now, I know my thoughts impure. My child is now a prisoner he is buried deep within no wit, personality, or charm.... That dag-blasted vaccination has caused my baby harm! I would love to hear the voice of my disconnected child. I call upon my ancestors, but only the wind is blowing; Sadly, I sit, moping all alone. I call upon my forefathers/and mothers... I got channels to open. I try to hold my child; my hug is rejected; I want to reach my baby- But he is now Dis-connected! Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2010