For Liam

This poem is one of my most recent. I wrote it when my young godson was in hospital about to die. He was only 8 years old and suffered from a genetic skin disorder known as EB.

We sit around in silence, The dreaded phone call inevitable
The awaiting of a grievous message to inform us of thy oh too early passing
Images roam carelessly around ones mind, a lifeless child clinging to life,
Only surviving by the ticking machines that surround him
This 'black hole' that resurfaces each year in the Autumn coldness of October
Proves once again, that as dark months approach,
Impending darkness is upon.

You see; Ones fight cannot be described by the physical strength of the bull,
But by the invisible strength contained within oneself that is naked to those who encircle