The Misunderstood Child
LaserMum
Posts: 133
The Misunderstood Child:
I am the child that looks healthy and fine.
I was born with ten fingers and toes.
But something is different, somewhere in my mind.
And what it is, nobody knows.
I am the child who struggles in school.
Though they say I’m perfectly smart.
They tell me I’m lazy – can learn if I try -
But I don’t seem to know where to start.
I am the child that won’t wear the clothes
Which hurt me or bother my feet.
I dread sudden noises, can’t handle most smells,
And tastes – there are few foods I’ll eat.
I am the child that can’t catch the ball
And runs with an awkward gait.
I am the one chosen last on the team
And cringe as I stand there and wait.
I am the child with whom no one will play -
The one that gets bullied and teased.
I try to fit in and I want to be liked,
But nothing I do seems to please.
I am the child that tantrums and freaks
Over things that seem petty and trite.
You’ll never know how I panic inside,
When I’m lost in my anger and fright.
I am the child that fidgets and squirms
Though I’m told to sit still and be good
Do you think that I choose to be out of control?
Do you think that I would if I could?
I am the child with the broken heart
Though I act like I really don’t care.
Perhaps there is a reason God made me this way -
Some message he sent me to share.
For I am the child that needs to be loved
and accepted and valued too.
I am the child that is misunderstood,
I am different – but look just like you.
~By Kathy Winters
I am the child that looks healthy and fine.
I was born with ten fingers and toes.
But something is different, somewhere in my mind.
And what it is, nobody knows.
I am the child who struggles in school.
Though they say I’m perfectly smart.
They tell me I’m lazy – can learn if I try -
But I don’t seem to know where to start.
I am the child that won’t wear the clothes
Which hurt me or bother my feet.
I dread sudden noises, can’t handle most smells,
And tastes – there are few foods I’ll eat.
I am the child that can’t catch the ball
And runs with an awkward gait.
I am the one chosen last on the team
And cringe as I stand there and wait.
I am the child with whom no one will play -
The one that gets bullied and teased.
I try to fit in and I want to be liked,
But nothing I do seems to please.
I am the child that tantrums and freaks
Over things that seem petty and trite.
You’ll never know how I panic inside,
When I’m lost in my anger and fright.
I am the child that fidgets and squirms
Though I’m told to sit still and be good
Do you think that I choose to be out of control?
Do you think that I would if I could?
I am the child with the broken heart
Though I act like I really don’t care.
Perhaps there is a reason God made me this way -
Some message he sent me to share.
For I am the child that needs to be loved
and accepted and valued too.
I am the child that is misunderstood,
I am different – but look just like you.
~By Kathy Winters
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Replies
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Great post/poem. My son is diagnosed Aspergers/high functioning so most of this applies but I don't think he minds how he is. He admit to being antisocial and never plans to marry or have kids. He's only 12 but he says he knows this about himself. Who knows... each person has a vast universe in their minds.0
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This describes my child in many ways, and she is a gift to me. She helps me see the world in a whole different light, and for that, I am incredibly thankful.0
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^^ This ^^This describes my child in many ways, and she is a gift to me. She helps me see the world in a whole different light, and for that, I am incredibly thankful.
Love to you MizTerry!! And to my little girl as well:)0
