Michael, My Son
He sees the world differently to me
And he can’t be what he wants to be
But he faces everyday in his own way
I worry about him and where he’ll stay
You see, he is handicapped
And needs some help not to be entrapped
In things that to him seem alright
May come back on him and bite
When the time has come for me
For death to be the thing I see
What will happen in this cruel world
Will he be happy in his future meld
© Paul Warren Poetry
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