All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Too Much Too Young
Her chest was of skin and bone
She had herself, so alone.
The hurting she felt was never told.
Such a burden for 11 years old.
Counting calories, 500 was all
The time had come to make the call.
On that day, to the hospital we went
From the psychologist we were but sent.
Never before had we been so scared,
To face this disease, how could one prepare?
The pain of hearing her scream and shout,
Filled my family with fear and doubt.
With feeding tube and the IV in place,
This was one thing I wished to never face.
Wheelchair became her form of transportation,
For her heart began a steady degradation.
As each night passed her heart would slow,
To dangerous depths her blood pressure did go.
Had this been a test of faith?
For she did need a greater strength.
As time’s shadow passed her by,
The time had come to say goodbye.
Orders were made for last resort,
To send her off, for time was short.
Too young, they said,
More money, we read.
A search for help, not a thing in sight
The only program called for a flight.
Opportunity arose, across several borders
Colorado became my sister and mother’s new quarters
Time went on without mother or sister,
For two awful months, oh how I missed her!
Now they’ve returned,
No doctors, we’ve learned;
Food is a burden, yet still it is life.
Just ask this daughter, just ask this wife.
A disease with no definite cure,
Of this, we are sure.