In the quiet of my daily prayer,
Lies a burden I cannot bear,
For my child, with a face unique,
I seek solace in prayers I speak.

Born with a visage that draws a stare,
In a world that often fails to care,
My heart is heavy with sorrow’s weight,
As I beseech the heavens, early and late.

Each day, as I bow my head low,
I grapple with a bittersweet woe,
Hoping for relief from this silent ache,
Praying for a miracle, for God’s sake.

In the depths of sadness, I find my plea,
For my child, born different, yet free,
Hoping that God will soon awaken,
To the suffering that seems forsaken.

I watch my child with eyes that weep,
His spirit strong, his soul runs deep,
In his smile, a world of grace,
A beauty that time cannot erase.

Though God’s plan remains a mystery,
In my prayers, I find a sliver of victory,
A beacon of hope in the darkest night,
Guiding me through this endless fight.

May my child find peace in God’s hands,
Protected in His loving strands,
May relief from suffering soon be taken,
And the feeling of being forsaken.

So I pray each day with a heavy heart,
Hoping for a brighter, lighter part,
Believing that God hears my cries,
And will bring comfort from the skies.