Michael John

 August 5, 1998 ~ April 3, 1999 



~ Michael ~


What do you say about a baby whose
world revolved around managing pain?
If you were his parents how do you
guard from going insane?

Why were they chosen to bear this cross?
The heartfelt loss of an extention of oneself.

With parent's unyielding devotion,
how do you keep from touching, or holding
the child you love?
I question this to the father above.

Who sometimes in my anger, I curse at him
and hold him accountable.
"Life isn't fair!
This child should be laughing."

You could tell in Michael's eyes he
was an old soul.
Unable to speak,
He had wisdom untold.

Although he delicate, Michael taught us
about strength and hope.
To hold on to life and live it.
Our existence is short,
no matter how much time we have.

Struggling day by day until he knew,
he would find comfort in a world
bigger than our own.

Rest little one.
You don't have to fight.
I will see you smiling brightly
in the stars at night.

by Angel Staub