Kevin

 
Kevin is a child in a man's body who barely speaks
yet laughs easily when he watches Beauty And The Beast
(for the 1150th time) or is given yogurt or other low-fat desserts.
He's almost always compliant and easy to love but, oh how it hurts
when I think of him without me,
for I am his world, his protector, his sanctuary.

Who will keep Kevin bathed, watch his diet and take him to the Disney Store?
Will someone else help him with simple animal puzzles and make his laughter soar?

Everything happens for a reason, I hear the idiots say,
but they don't know what it's like for us on any given day.
Yet they feel compelled to add to their platitudinous ramble
and tell me that God never gives anyone more than they can handle.

Now he's insulated from the horrors of our time.
When I'm gone what will become of Kevin this child of mine?