Your white crown of thorns, made of guaze
Own precious blood, redder than a ruby
Little hands adorned with tubes
Keeping you alive, killing you every day.
When was the last time you ran?
Might’ve been ages ago, I think.

You sit quietly, watching us walk by
I wonder what you’re thinking –
Perhaps you dream of a football field or a cricket ground
Or just a day with your mates, coloring and singing
I know the needles hurt you, I know you cry
I know your parents tell you to hang on
And I know you’re fighting your way out.

But, sweet child, you smiled when you saw me, a stranger
And it so broke my heart – and I see
You’re still just a little child
Trying to enjoy your wheelchair ride.

So, my little new friend, I wish you good health
Great laughs, junk food and naughty times
I’ll think of you when I pray tonight
Dear one, I’ll think of you when I pray every night.

      

(I was at the hospital today, waiting for the doc. And I saw this 3 yr old in a wheelchair, head bandaged, IV lines stuck in his arm, waiting in his wheelchair. The orderly came by and start wheeling him towards the room and the kid was so taken by it that he was smiling away to glory. I smiled back unknowingly, and his smile only grew bigger and became a full blown laugh.

I don’t know who he is. I might never see him ever again in my life. But tonight, my prayers are for that little kid who should’ve been on a playground chasing a football or something instead of being on a hospital bed, eating meds and having injections.)

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