I watch as he sits and cries
longing for the touch of love,
of familiarity, of family.
I try to reassure him as he
wonders 'why me?' and cries
out for a life of normalcy like
his friends.
One in which his parents
and two brothers share the
ups and downs of life with him
instead of looking down on him
from an ethereal position
of helplessness.
I cry for him because one
so young has had to endure
pains I can not fathom even
in my seniority.
I fear (just as he does) that
his life is in danger...
danger of chance (another fire)
danger of violence (a bullet in the back)
danger of grief (another death).
We both ask how much more can he take?
How do I help him conquer the tragedy
of his youth... of his life?
I have to make him see that he
has not been abandoned...
that he must know there is something
powerful meant for his life.
He alone has escaped so much tragedy.
He alone is left to tell of His grace and His mercy.
He alone can be a testimony
of victory over adversity
... that He alone can turn his tragedy into triumph!
longing for the touch of love,
of familiarity, of family.
I try to reassure him as he
wonders 'why me?' and cries
out for a life of normalcy like
his friends.
One in which his parents
and two brothers share the
ups and downs of life with him
instead of looking down on him
from an ethereal position
of helplessness.
I cry for him because one
so young has had to endure
pains I can not fathom even
in my seniority.
I fear (just as he does) that
his life is in danger...
danger of chance (another fire)
danger of violence (a bullet in the back)
danger of grief (another death).
We both ask how much more can he take?
How do I help him conquer the tragedy
of his youth... of his life?
I have to make him see that he
has not been abandoned...
that he must know there is something
powerful meant for his life.
He alone has escaped so much tragedy.
He alone is left to tell of His grace and His mercy.
He alone can be a testimony
of victory over adversity
... that He alone can turn his tragedy into triumph!