Little Joe lyrics

Brought into this world

Disabled and undeveloped

He faced an uphill battle

Many maladies and machines

To aid and prolong his stay

There was a choice to let him go

Or to prolong his life at birth

Serious words not fully understood

All men have a clock of life

His was running fast

He never walked, or ran

He never spoke or sang

But his beaming smile

Needed no words to convey

In his simple, innocent expression

And so one day as fate had it fixed

He came to Peds I.C.U. direct from E.D.

Labored breath that sought to tire

And drain his life so quickly

But this patient would not go so easily

There is but a small detail to know

He was not an ordinary patient, no

He had dedicated providers, yes

Amongst them was his Papa too

Who stayed by him through it all

He thought it funny to be percussed

Perhaps he thought he was flying

Not many hugs because of the fray

Of tubes and of wiring

But he knew no different

Wincing eyes and gurgling sounds

From fifty suction tubes a day

Every breath known sitting close

By his side working on him...pray

And rub his tummy

No one ever takes account

Of each and every breath

But this good fight

It lasted long, so very long

Until his releasing death

How long was he you ask

Two years and no more

A long struggle for such youth

All deserted him in short

Because they knew the truth

Deep down it's hard to think

To reckon with life's end

Especially a little child

There's no fairness found

So none trekked near

Relative ties and feelings lovingly strong

A Hippocratic oath, to do no harm

Thoughts of quietus to arrest ceaseless misery

The daily dilemma of his suffering seen

The constant quandary of why

He died in his struggle fought

So bravely this little warrior

That stood his final ground

Until the quenching end

Until that last sighed sound

Laying in the white casket

So small, so quiet, so well kept

No din of monitors and alarms

No rattling breath, gasping

Only somber unceasing stillness

The stillness heaven knows

When an angel has come

From mortal bounds

And earthly frailties

That are no more

The stillness that forwarns a tumult

All those close of coming storms

That accompany the deluge of tears

And blow in the faults, the blames to be

Destroyer of family bonds

He was buried in a small cemetary, afar

In a borrowed grave, alone

The day was cool, the wind did blow

A tiny white casket we interred

Playing the pipes in numbing shock

And if perchance when called

To Peds I.C.U., and passing by the door

Always looking for him

And on quiet occasions, rare

Sneeking up there, discreetly, but known

To where was spent three months of trial

And stand in the darkened room

Now filled with furniture in silence

All alone with head low

And the tears roll down

So pragmatic, and profound a man

Of medicine, in humility's grip

Weeps for his lose, and guilt

And for the helplessness learned

That mortal men should keep close by

But comforted in the thought

The memories of a little boy

Who's sincere smile could melt a calloused heart

As he listened to the music

That he and his Papa sweetly shared

In moments still undying...