(1950 / )

Special

The green grass,
Neatly manicured,
I dip my fingers,
Into the holy water font,
Blessed and sprouting agape,

I enter into the lives,
Of those twisted bodies,
Temples of sweet angelic
Affection,
Called special children;

With eyes that reflect,
The tiniest spark of kindness,
Returning smiles;
I wonder, do they perceive
Us first, as being special?
2008

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