cerebral palsy

samantha: 1973-1987

You sit there in your wheelchair, in a corner of the room,

crumpled in the foetal form you took inside my womb.

With limbs that are immobile, and eyes that cannot see; ears that hear all noises,

Do you know it’s me?

You will never understand this world, never know you have been deprived.

You should have died when I gave you birth, but with help, you survived.

Although there is nothing I can do, and your handicaps break my heart,

I love you, and I always will, whether together or apart.

Small things bring you happiness – a word, a cuddle or a song.

Oh if I could give you a normal life, but to your own world you will always belong.