He Has No Hope
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Every day starts with a hand full of pills,
medicated; he has no hope of thrills,
his life is Spartan, without any frills.
My visits are his only source of joy,
he looks like a man, but he is a boy,
and gets all excited over a toy.
He loves his father, and I love my son,
but all too quickly, my visit is done
and he can hardly wait for the next one.
Seeing him smile tugs upon my heartstrings,
he's an angel, and though life clipped his wings,
he's learned to live with whatever fate brings.
(Tristich)
7/20/2018
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018
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