(I wrote this canzone poem to support and encourage parents of special needs children or children diagnosed with behavior disorders.)
Wounded Generation
by Me
To choice parents of this generation,
I tell you without reservation,
Plague has struck the innocence of your child—
Born to be languishing, enfeebled, or wild.
Remorse and melancholy rises in me,
One part sympathy; one part empathy,
We don’t deride, criticize, or blame,
We champion your praiseworthy campaign.
Your encumbrance suspended before all,
All that’s evil betting on your fall,
Rosemary’s baby matured and smacked us,
No upright thing will assuage his malice.
Mothers, we espouse your albatross,
Let all creation see you bear your cross.
Wounded Generation
by Me
To choice parents of this generation,
I tell you without reservation,
Plague has struck the innocence of your child—
Born to be languishing, enfeebled, or wild.
Remorse and melancholy rises in me,
One part sympathy; one part empathy,
We don’t deride, criticize, or blame,
We champion your praiseworthy campaign.
Your encumbrance suspended before all,
All that’s evil betting on your fall,
Rosemary’s baby matured and smacked us,
No upright thing will assuage his malice.
Mothers, we espouse your albatross,
Let all creation see you bear your cross.