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Poem by Martin Friel.
And who can love this child. This ugly, this broken, this lonely, nervous and loveless child?
This silent, quiet, this thoughtful child.
Who can love this child? The father? The drinker, the shagger, the shouter, he who can only imagine the child’s life.
Who can love this child? The mother? The broken, the addicted, the sleeping mother. The one who looks at this child and thinks “what if?”.
Who can love this child? The child who wonders what’s wrong and why and when and how will it change.
Who can love this child?
Who can really love this child?
Copyright reserved. Please do not reproduce without consent.