My Play Mate. Poem by wild fire

I was old enough to understand.
My brother was going to die.
My best friend who I had loads of fun with.
I was 8 and he was 6.
I saw him and he was running and I loved him so much,
The next time I saw my brother I wasn't the same.
His hair was falling out and he was in a hospital bed.
He couldnt run with me anymore.
We couldnt play.
My play mate was still and had to wear diapers.
He couldnt talk to me.
I stared at the motionless body they called my brother.
It wasn't him. It couldn't be.
I didnt want him to die. I loved him soo much.
I felt alone and afraid.
I grew up that day.
No more sunshine and rainbows,
no more barbies and dolls.
I would have given it all up if he could just run and play with me again.
Pretty soon my brother got better and he went in to remission.
I didnt laugh anymore I never even cried,
I kept it all inside because all the people in my life were calling me childish and said i was a baby.
I hardly saw my parents.
They stayed with him the whole time and my grandparents were my guardians.
It was months before I first laid eyes on my brother.
Soon he came home and people stopped and stared and I hated them all for not seeing him as I did.
But now that same 6 year old boy lives and is a 14 year old boy whom I love very much. He can talk and walk and play and even though he cant do a lot of normal things.... he's still my playmate