Today I light the last Birthday candle I will ever light for my son
Why would God only let him celebrate eight birthdays, blowout 36 candles
And make only 36 wishes
When we all know that he won’t make it to nine?
My son had blue eyes that sparkled when he looked at you
He had skin tanned by the warmth of the sun with coarse brown hair
Why would He not answer my son’s birthday wish?
When he blew out the candles, closed his eyes, wishing that he would never have to go back to the place with all the wires?
And why would He let IVs get pushed through his veins letting so many medications flow through his body making him heave over the bed?
Blood is the only thing that comes out of his mouth anymore
Why would He allow him to lose all of his hair?
Every morning before school he would comb and fix it just right
Using off brand gel for the girls that he knew had cooties but still wanted to impress
Doesn’t God know that he’s supposed to be a pro baseball player running all the bases?
The crowd cheering because he hit a home run
Meet a wonderful woman, wear a suit and walk me down the aisle
Have kids and be a better man and a better father than his ever could be
Doesn’t He know that my son is only eight and all he remembers is pain?
Can’t He see how tired he is, how badly he just wants to close his eyes but I am not ready to let him go?
And what’s the point of praying so damn hard every night over his bed?
Making sure I can still hear his breathing, and see the rise of his chest in the dark
My son doesn’t know and thinks it’s all a show and he’s tired of playing the role
Every morning he wakes up that’s his goal
Why can’t God see that there’s no tranquility that the pain will never go?
The pain that’s inside of me as we all know he won’t make it to nine candles
Let him grow
Grow into the man that I can see he can become but know he will never be
Why would He take my only child from me who grew inside of me?
Who I felt kicking with those feet that will never run the bases
Doesn’t God know that when He gains an angel in heaven the earth will lose one as well?
That my son is only eight and still thinks that if you wish for something hard enough it will come true
Red blood cells like the red river pulsating through him to the beat of his heart
Trying to keep up to the rhythm of his breathing
Beep beep beep like the heart beat I once heard inside of me 
The machine is like a winding clock never stopping always starting
Moving that green wavelength up and down as it measures my son’s vitals
But can it measure the intelligence inside of him
Or how about the kindness and generosity
No it can’t measure the things inside of his soul
Only things inside of his body as organs try for the thousandth time not to fail him
My son has tired gray eyes
He has pale skin and a bald head with blue veins not hidden by strands of hair
This is the last candle I will light for my son
The next candle I will light for him will be at church as they bring his coffin up to the altar
Bad things happen to good people
My son won’t make it to nine candles and it’s not fair
Childhood cancer is a death sentence and it’s right here