They say you nearly died when you were two, <br />miraculously saved by surgeon’s art, <br />your pain immense. Outside, like some spare part, <br />your mum knew there was nothing she could do. <br /> <br />That pain has faded to a memory, <br />though tears and torment cannot be undone: <br />the scar around your body has become <br />a silent witness to your agony. <br /> <br />But now you’re facing hurt that goes more deep <br />within your spirit than a surgeon’s blade. <br />You know my help can only go so far, <br /> <br />for love is forced to wait, and pray, and weep. <br />The promise is one day this too will fade, <br />and I will find, befriend, and kiss the scar.<br /><br />Wild Bill Balding<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/operation-3/
