The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where
Who knows when

I hold in my hands a picture of a boy-child
My adult eyes and wisdom stumbling
Through the half unfamilar landscape of childhood memories
Is he really my brother?

But I’m strong
Strong enough to carry him
He aint heavy, he’s my brother

The angelic face looking back
Gave little validation to the dim recollections
Of my favorite books being indiscriminately torn up
Oh, yes, that was his favorite activity

So on we go
His welfare is of my concern
No burden is he to bear

I don’t remember hugging him
I don’t remember birthday parties for him
I don’t remember a stocking for him at Christmas
Was he really ever my brother?

We’ll get there
For I know
He would not encumber me
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother

He hasn’t lived at home since he was six
All he knows is the institution of the state school
Haven and sanctuary for him and those like him
Where he’s not a “burden” to anyone

If I’m laden at all
I’m laden with sadness

It was like he had never lived at home at all
A secret and a shame to be hidden
Not brought forth into the light
Except at the “proper” times, and as briefly as possible

That everyone’s heart
Isn’t filled with gladness
Of love for one another

Some of my friends speak lovingly of their brothers
Others hate theirs with a passion
Take your pick, they’re role models one minute
And the scum of the earth the next
I can’t do either with my brother

Its a long, long road
From which there is no return

The silent legacy endures
My heart doesn’t feel the emotion
To know and feel what its like to have a brother
He’s my brother in name only

While we’re on the way to there
Why not share

Was he really ever my brother?
Moments of life meant to be shared
Growing up, rites of passage, lifes special occassions
Passed him by without understanding

And the load
Doesn’t weigh me down at all
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother

A twist of fate, a quirk of genetics
I could have been him
A prisoner for life to mental retardation
With no hope for parole or reprieve

He’s my brother
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother

It’s a nice song, been around for a while
I wish I could feel that special meaning…
But was he really ever my brother?

He’s my brother
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother

“He Ain’t Heavy”
as sung by The Osmonds

©Poetry by L. Kupfer