JH (6 September,1962 / Sydney, Australia)

Ir A Freak

If eye spel not lyk u
Or perhaps there are ways I eat my food
Or suggest things
Perhaps my humour is not
as you have been taught humour should be
(Pardon my lack of blonde jokes)
Perhaps I think that
there are more important things than the superficial
Perhaps I define the superficial differently to you.
How different?
If I sit and rock holding my knees every now and then
If I plummet to sadness when joy is little
If I can’t get the words out:
“Ine, oo, ee, bor, by, ix…”
How different?
If I do not have the beauty the world demands
If I can spring up from a car hitting my head
But fall down when I find I’ve got cancer
Or if I enjoy not knowing the pain of the rich
Perhaps I should be locked away
There are homes and schools for such freaks
How different?
If I am defined by legislation
Or banned by it
If your perceptions of normal are the norm
Then perhaps I should redefine my humanity
I am a genetic mess of the past
You are the perfect of the future
Pardon my big ears
Perhaps they shouldn’t have let me be born
How different?
Sadly, only you know.

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Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

Comments (1)

I like how the poem talks about the way people have their fixed ideas and perceptions, (those who do not engage in personal growth that is) as we all form the world as it should be, but many do reach higher plains. I seldom like 'feel sorry for me' poems, but this one did not sound that way. It is amazing how innocent people with autism are. The staff know the kids just cleaned out the playground of other civilians in less than 10 minutes, but the kids never seem to notice it is because of them, and if they do.. then they have another portion of incredible strength. Enjoyed the poem.