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Beauty and Bliss
Wishful eyes
filled with hope and pride.
I look down at the blur of shapes and colors,
and the messy scrawl at the top.
Beauty is in the eye
of the beholder
and,
through a lens of love
your stick figures are magnificent.
They have the elegance of Monet’s water lilies
and the radiance of Starry Night.
I hang the picture on your door.
It’s a 93 square inch reminder of your talent.
Waving goodbye as you walk to school,
I stop to admire
the trail of confidence you left behind.
Waving hello as you walk home from school,
I watch tears roll off your cheeks.
During recess you and your friends
drew pictures.
Compared to their semi-realistic unicorns
your scribbles are nothing.
Anger surges within me and
my insides churn
Don’t they know that simply
holding a pencil
is an accomplishment,
and that spelling words is
a challenge, but
every day you try a little harder
and now it’s easier.
You stop crying
and I see it now.
The scrap on your knee.
No wonder you were sad.
Relief floods my mind as I realize
you didn’t even notice
your classmates giggles
or whispers.
Confidence in tow,
you stand up and go off
in search of Band-Aid.
Ignorance is bliss,
and the world you live in
is so much brighter than mine.
Safe for another day.
Grateful that you are shielded from pain.
Happy you are my sister.
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This poem was inspired by my little sister, Lizzie. She is 13 years old and has down syndrome. I have always been impressed by ability to see the world through a lens of love that protects her from the judgement of other people. This is a skill I often wish I too possessed.