I came across this poem while trawling the internet looking for something else. It was so beautifully written by a girl with Aspergers. I sourced it from her. It made me sad to read how she feels she is viewed by the rest of the “world”. It’s called: “Neurodiverse”
The girl in this poem is me — and likely a similar experience for anybody
else on the spectrum.
There once was a girl who was all alone.
Her thoughts a mystery, feelings unknown.
She knew her flaws, she could never perfect.
But all she wanted was a little respect.
She didn’t walk like you’d expect.
She couldn’t speak at all correct.
To other people, she couldn’t connect.
But why must she be so prone to neglect?
They’d yell at her, “Look into my eyes.”
She’d do it, but only as a disguise.
Forced to act normal — a part of her dies.
Living her life, shrouded in lies.
She sits alone, silently rocking.
The other kids are pointing and mocking.
She hears their taunts, but she turns away.
She’s used to hearing it, every day.
She asks her mother why they treat her that way.
Her mother tells her, “That’s how they play.”
“They don’t mean the things the say.”
“Just go with the flow. Conform. Obey.”
She asks the kids, “May I join you now?”
Her speech is jumbled, sweat on brow.
They laugh at her, “She’s just a freak.”
“She acts too weird and can barely speak.”
She knew that her chance for a friend was bleak.
But she slinks away and mumbles, “I’m just unique.