Dedicated to my step-son who decided death was an option. |
~A Brief Young Life~ (dedicated to David Paul Balliett, 05/1986-03/2002) Published in the Writer Post Journal magazine, August 2006 issue. You were not born of me, but were of my heart. God brought you into my empty, lonely life, to comfort you through, your sadness and grief, and gently lead you from your tormented strife. I nurtured you with all my might, helping you through, forlorn nights when you weren’t quite sure where you belonged, and confused how to share your precious love, so pure, which you desperately needed, returned, unyielding and secure. Throughout the years you grew, while I watched from afar, unknowing you would soon become a saddened, fallen star. You never asked much of me, only a brief, loving touch, filled with a small sum of glee, only a little, not too much. I was naive to your torment, of your bleak, solemn sorrows, your hidden suffering, and quiet, tearful lament. You were unsure of your tomorrows, that should have been, but, you somehow knew it clearly, wasn’t meant. You always felt misplaced, not knowing who you were. Feeling lost amidst a duo, who blindly refused to see, their small child crying out, his lonely, muted plea, that fell upon deafened ears, lost in a gentle, flighting breeze. One day, no longer to bear, unfair burdens, so unable to share, like fallen leaves of autumn bringing seasons of change, your colors darkened, only to wane. Now withered and crumpled, upon the earth they lay forever now, never to be changed. The life you didn’t choose, much like the fallen leaves, brought more pain with nothing to lose. None knew what soon would transpire, by your own choice, you did inspire to end the harrow, taking your own life, along with your sorrow, now silent, but still bright. And then you left me, many precious memories, of your young and brief life, so innocent and sweet, wondering what could have been, to save you from your self-defeat. Now, I live alone without you, with my guilt and saddened grief. |