A poem about an autistic person |
A curse A contaminate That's what I have; That's what I possess To the world; To you, Gaea My mind can clearly construct Yet my tongue speaks jumble When I converse with someone Or when I'm listening to loud noises I go blank; I have meltdowns "Pull up your socks," they will say "Let's play Cowboys." And I pull up my socks Or sit in the corner And they look at me strange Or bear little attention to me I joke at a formal party Joke at work The host scolds me Or the boss fires me Would this world acknowledge my condition Would it accept me for who I am Must I wander in agony around you Gaea Or tread along the path of Hel Forget me And forget you For you mislead yourself like a June bug; You walk like a hind-legged boar in the water You shroud my kind with your cloak And you spoon-feed me with castor oil What goddess are you The Lord knows you Who presses favorites with your children Or scorches us who fail in your delight You bear hatred on us Cyclops; You view us as freaks Over the Titans Or at least the gods Yet you don't know (Or do you?) The power we have The gifts we possess We're creative Unique Look at our art View our contributions Pokémon Stephen Spielberg Hans Christian Andersen Albert Einstein See your favorites hang out with us See us happy, accepted, and scholary Your favorites have as many flaws As we have gifts We're mere mortals; We're mere ants Crawling on your belly Or at least in Poseidon's realm So bear not judgment on us Bear judgment on yourself Not future generations Nor those in heaven For we have flaws And just as much gifts And our kind is unique We're made for a purpose So accept us Don't kill us or make us conform with society I have autism; I have Asperger's Syndrome And I sing out to the world; I am a proud autistic |