I feel lost in my writing like my words lead no where.
They are empty steps on paper stairs that are lined blue with red railings.
I go no where but up and up;
My hopes go with them.
I fall off the meaningless edge.
Think of me as a child:
adorable and unwise,
clumsy and awkward.
He is eye-candy that tastes bitter when you reach the center,
but you still want to taste him,
to go through the meal.
Hmmm I’m not sure how to categorize this post. A story in verse would be the best way to describe it I guess. It is fictional but based on actual ideals some people in this world have. I wrote this after a conversation with a friend of mine and I guess it speaks strongly of my beliefs. Some people might see this as somewhat controversial… but my eyes only see a clear, thick, black line that divides ethics, love, & morals from a savage unnecessary torture that is too similar to the actions that lead to mass killings in the second world war of people considered “unworthy of life.”
Anyway, I’m getting drawn away from the essence of this post. Here’s the story:
Beautiful Ethan, born April 16, 2007
How beautiful he was:
Little nose; red apple cheeks;
A little head full of dark brown hair;
Vibrant blue eyes that shocked all who saw them.
He was everything Tammy and John had wanted.
Adorable and curious,
He seemed interested in everything he saw.
He learned quickly.
Tammy and John were very proud;
But then there was the fire in their condo building.
He hadn’t cried. It was very odd.
They discovered he was deaf.
Tammy could only cry,
John sat in angry silence.
The doctors said he could hear,
They just had to do a simple surgery.
The government covered the cost.
So, the baby boy went back to the hospital.
He wasn’t ill, he wasn’t dying,
But surgery would be imposed.
Tammy stayed at the hospital with the boy until he went into surgery.
John’s actions spoke louder then his lousy excuse.
The doctors took the one year old boy
And shaved the hair around his ear.
They inserted a scalpel into his soft skin,
Drilled the scull that had not even developed to its full potential.
God wept, his ears bleeding in shared pain.
And the boy would cry from pain his parents would never feel,
With swelling and bruised skin.
Why would parents inflict this pain on children they brought into this world?
Ah, they do it because they want their children to be the same as they are.
But what is easier, learning sign language or imposing surgery on a child?
Laziness is all that comes to mind,
And vomit to my mouth.
Deaf parents don’t jab pens into their hearing children’s ears,
But I’m sure the thought of that shocks you
More than ripping into the soft head of a beautiful baby boy.
F.Y.I. – I don’t know exactly how the surgery for a cochlear implant works, but I don’t care to research the topic. (No matter how the surgery is “perfected” I wouldn’t accept it being performed on a child; what adults do is their own business, even though I still think it is not right.)
