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I Grieve – Peter Gabriel
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Archive for the ‘Poems’ Category

My Little Brother

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I like to make him laugh
And he can make me smile
And sometimes we just sit
And cuddle for awhile.

I’m teaching him some games
And how to get along
And someday soon he’ll count and read
(or least pretend to)
And learn to sing a song.

If I feel like being nice
(which I am all the time)
I let him share my toys
‘Cause even if they’re for girls
They’re just as fun for boys.

Sometimes I hug too hard
(cause I love him so much)
And my kisses make him cry
But I can’t help myself
He’s such a cute little guy.

I hope when we grow up
He’ll be a friend like no other
But for now I think I like
Having Adam for my brother


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All I want to know is happiness.

I yearn to be five again some way, to know innocence, pure and hope, uncrushed, as the sticky bouquet of a dear boy’s first love.

I desire to relive the moment before a forced letter was written, time was lost and my fate was sealed by stalking Evil.

I crave to lick ice cream off a stick and not worry about dripping it on the couch.

I want to play in a sloppy puddle of mud, throw myself into a crunchy pile of leaves as they fall, draw funny chalk figures on a sidewalk and believe again that I can change the future.

I hunger to feast on fresh baked brownies and solid chocolate Easter bunnies because they melt brown sweet goodness in my mouth and fill both my eyes and tummy.

I long to play in the sun without thinking of wrinkles, fill scrapbooks and boxes of memories with the reds, blues, greens and purples of pipe cleaner reindeer and then tie them up with ribbons that twizzle and sparkle with silvery glitter.

I wish to return to a time when life and joy were simple,  doors and windows could be left unlatched, neighbors were safe havens, strangers were not a danger, the use of drugs consisted of two aspirin and, “Call me in the morning,” trust between friends was never violated and play was freedom during a light spring drizzle.

I need to believe that everyone tells only the truth, the word, “quit,” was never invented and that children aren’t treated like dolls made of rags and thrown against walls when they’re labeled, “imperfect.”

I ache to hope that anything is possible, that nightmares aren’t real and that birthday wishes come true.

I strive to be oblivious to the atrocities of life, thrilled again over the beauty of the earth, the crisp scent of a season’s shower or the powdery formations of the mists in a cloud.

I request the world not consist of deception, depressing news, illness or broken, abandoned hearts, the inconceivable theft of one child or the violent murder of another.

I pray one day I’ll kiss, caress, tuck my children’s’ children into their beds and teach them their prayers to my God not forsaken.

I choose to believe in the power of forgiveness, truth, justice, peace, reconciliation, man, child and woman kind, and listening to my little boy angel as he whispers ever near.

I offer my soul, my heart, my brain, bared for all to judge, to see and to read, my bones gnarled from the battles of dreams.

May God’s will  be done, the last page of my life is full and written and when exhaling air is no longer a mindless rhythm,  I’ll turn to my gentle son who was so brutally taken away in death and sigh,

“It’s been too long.  I’ve grieved you, missed you, kept your memory alive, your life as a jewel.  I’m ready now.  Take my hand, lead the way, I’ll be joining you … today …”
To Adam Forever,


Heavens’s Very Special Child

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A meeting was held quite far from Earth!
It’s time again for another birth.
Said the Angels to the LORD above,
This Special Child will need much love.

His progress may be very slow,
Accomplishments he may not show.
And he’ll require extra care
From the folks he meets down there.

He may not run or laugh or play,
His thoughts may seem quite far away,
In many ways he won’t adapt,
And he’ll be known as handicapped.

So let’s be careful where he’s sent,
We want his life to be content.
Please LORD, find the parents who
Will do a special job for you.

They will not realize right away
The leading role they’re asked to play,
But with this child sent from above
Comes stronger faith and richer love.

And soon they’ll know the privilege given
In caring for their gift from Heaven.
Their precious charge, so meek and mild,

by Edna Massionilla
December 1981
The Optomist- newsletter for PROUD
Parents Regional Outreach for
Understanding Down’s Inc.

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