He’s not like the others,
he’s not even a wholly likable child.

I mean, he has the cute face
high squeaky voice
chipmunk cheeks.

It’s his personality,
his attitude,
it’s the fact that he’s only 7 years old
and already hates the majority of what he’s seen of this wide world.

It’s the fact that he manipulates everyone’s words
until he’s made the collage that meets his ideal visage.

He’s more than a handful.
He’s even more than a whole village’s armful.

And though I know a part of its’ the diagnosis
it’s hard to keep that in mind
all the time.

(It’s hard to forgive an unlikable child)

Even harder as he swings insults your way,

as you have to take off running after him for the nth time this week.

It’s hard keeping a straight face,
keeping the unflappable demeanor
through every offense.

It’s hard not to scream,
curse,
cry,
  to remain the calm island in the face of the raging tempest.

But you have to.
(Even though he’s not the most likable child)

He is still a child.

And you’re loving compassion is stronger than his self destruction.