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Six weeks old (But I just turned eight)

by Chelle Morris

I can’t walk, I can’t swallow or talk; I wish I could read but I can’t even see,
I’ll never hear the sound of music, my “doting” father ruined that for me.
Doctors say I’m brain damaged, they say I’ll always be in a vegetate state,
My life will never be the same- I’m six weeks old but I just turned eight.

I have Epilepsy and severe Cerebral Palsy, doctors say that I will never heal,
I have a tube through my throat, I wont ever know what it’s like to eat a meal.
I’ll never see my father and I’ll never speak the words I long to say,
I don’t remember my mother’s face, I’ve not seen her since that fateful day.

Sometimes I wish I’d never made it, what’s a life worth if it can’t be lived?
Blind, deaf and paralysed, I don’t even have the mental ability to forgive.
I only cried because I needed comfort, maybe I was hungry, or my diaper soiled,
My needs for attention caused frustration; I made my father’s blood boil.

Confined to a wheelchair, I don’t have the physical capacity to move alone,
My life damaged, wrecked and ruined- I fell victim to “Shaken Baby Syndrome”.
I can’t participate in any activities, unlike ordinary children, I cannot play,
And when I’m ill and feeling sick, how do I let people know.. That I’m not feeling OK.

Well, father, I’m sorry that I cried and that I needed you that night,
But your frustrations nearly killed me, you should have known it wasn’t right-
To shake a baby the way you did me, you caused me pain, torturous harm,
When all I needed, father - was to be loved and held in your arms.

04/05/2009

Author's Note: Wasn't sure which category to put this into - so chose the "Sad" option.

Posted on 04/05/2009
Copyright © 2024 Chelle Morris

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Genevieve Sturrock on 04/05/09 at 03:40 PM

'sad' seems a perfect choice to me as that is how i feel after reading it. babies are so precious...this really is just so sad.

Posted by Kerowyn Rose on 04/06/09 at 04:29 PM

Heart wrenching... it is hard to hold a mirror up to such things, but you did it well.

Posted by Maude Curtis on 04/09/09 at 04:51 PM

After 35 years of bringing babies into this world this piece tears my heart nearly from my chest. This needed said, for all to often this kind of thing gets lost to quite whispers and unfeeling nursing homes. Thank you for having the guts to write about it.

Posted by Mo Couts on 12/11/11 at 11:07 AM

Sad seems like a perfectly good choice. I work with children with special needs and the things I see are sometimes so shocking that this poem cuts deeply for me. Beautiful, yet sad, as always, Chelle.

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