Don't turn your back on my son
Just because he does not fit into your world.
His torment is real
And he would change if he could.

His illness is not something you can see
But it is real, all too real, nonetheless
And the boy we know is lost to us.
Like a missing child, the pain never dies
But haunts us with hopes that someday
We will find him again.

He struggles daily with an illness
It is not a terminal illness
But a life sentence
He has no place of refuge
To escape his own mind.

I can't desert him.  He is my son.
And he is the same son that held
My hand when we laughed and ran
Through the flowers
In the meadow at our farm.

My son's suffering and his mother's
Tears have given me the courage
To ask you to listen and learn.
If you take the time to understand
You can make his world a less painful place.