I could never change your face,
The face that tells a story.
Let my finger gently trace
Your features in their glory.
Your eyes in shape and color show,
Your great grandmother's eyes,
Which far away and long ago,
Reflect Irish skies.
Your nose is dainty and I'm glad
It's not as large as mine.
The prominent nose of you grandpa
Runs in the family line.
When I look at your mouth and lips
Such memories come to me,
Of infant suckling, spoons and drips,
And of speech therapy.
The prejudice these people show,
These bigots of "pure race",
Who ignorant, who know nothing
Is hateful, cruel and base.
It's not a crime, it's not a sin,
It's nothing you have done,
To have that extra chromosome,
That number 21.
But trying to make your tongue be small,
And alter the shape of your eyes,
They do not change your thoughts at all,
Or alter height or size.
Instead it says "you're second class, inferior, rejected,
deformed, subnormal, cannot pass, disfigured and defective."
I say in an empathetic tone,
Down syndrome's part of you,
I love you as yourself alone,
Your face I won't redo!!
But most of all it is your life,
I know it would cause pain.
The scalpel blade, the surgeon's knife,
Would bring distress and strain.
You would feel fear, it would be cruel,
No benefit it ensure,
Without improvements or renewal,
No gain or help to you.
So I will never change your face,
No surgery, no scar.
Your beauty, humor and your grace,
Just stay the way you are!!
