Don't Ask My Child To Fly
by Bruce Ritchie

Don't ask my child to fly,
for he has not wings.
Don't ask my child to see the glint on the eagle's beak,
for his vision has been diminished.

Don't ask my child to remain calm amid the din,
for her ability to screen out the noises has been taken away.

Don't ask my child to be careful with "strangers",
for he is affectionate with everyone and prey for the unscrupulous.

Don't ask my child to "settle down",
for the clock which works for you and I, does not exist for her.

Don't ask my child to not play with the toys of others,
for he has no concept of property.

Don’t ask my child to remember you tomorrow,
although you met today.

Don't ask my child to heal your wounds,
for her hands cannot hold a scalpel or sutures.

Don't ask my child to meet the challenges set by society,
for you have denied her the tools.

Don't ask my child to forgive you for standing idly by,
while he was being tortured in his mother's womb,

for he will,


but He should not.