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Poem

Too young to be so old,a child of five,
Yet a man so old, a childhood gone.
I hear his pain in his dreams at night.

I feel his fear in the tears upon his cheeks,
When he reaches for the love that isn,t there.
I feel the emptiness in his embrace.

He holds inside a pain so very deep,
A fear so strong no one can reach.
His eyes have seen,his body felt,

More in life that many adults.
How does he face the things that hide inside?
Where does he turn when the tears come down?

Left behind at a tender age to face the questions mommy made,
When she chose to leave him behind and not to hold him tight.
I have heard him say," If I had been better,

Maybe she would have loved me and stayed,"
He watched her beaten,watched her cry.
The choice she made was to pass him by.

He bottles the pain so deep inside,
Many a night I held him tight,
When the darkness came and took his light.

One day he will see just how much it hurts,
When Poppa and I can't fix what hurts inside.
As I look back and recall the tears that came,

When to us the question came," Do we have to go back to her?
There was nothing we could do ,but take them home
We must hold the tears and pain inside.

He was much too young to be so old.

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