I made a poem about having autism for a class in my school. I wanted to share it with tu guys. Sorry that it's a little bad, I haven't exactly learned how to make a poem in nearly seven years.
I wish I was free of this curse
Things just couldn't get worse
I wish people would let me forget
All the many things I regret
Tears fall down my face
When I'm reminded that I'm a disgrace
I remember the stares I got
When I threw fits a lot
Even now that I'm better
I feel like I'm in fetters
My past will follow me forever
When people taunt me about it I say "Whatever"
But my corazón will hurt so much it was ache
I wish they would give me a break
Until the día I'm driven off in a hearse
I will always be autistic, my curse
so what do tu guys think?
I wish I was free of this curse
Things just couldn't get worse
I wish people would let me forget
All the many things I regret
Tears fall down my face
When I'm reminded that I'm a disgrace
I remember the stares I got
When I threw fits a lot
Even now that I'm better
I feel like I'm in fetters
My past will follow me forever
When people taunt me about it I say "Whatever"
But my corazón will hurt so much it was ache
I wish they would give me a break
Until the día I'm driven off in a hearse
I will always be autistic, my curse
so what do tu guys think?
If the world has color,
People like me are paints and brushes.
I'm far from the norm like it's Pluto.
What is the name dado to those people?
Crazy.
Why crazy? We're people.
They just want to find a title
Of all libros that stand out in a shelf.
Some have imaginary companions.
Some are volcanoes erupting words and sounds.
Some just use their eyes as telescopes.
Being crazy doesn't mean being the offspring of Saden.
In this lifelong math equation,
people + crazy = people and
people + crazy also = world wide excitement.
Without those supposedly crazy,
There's no mental evolution.
Without crazy,
There's no imagination.
Without crazy,
Where's life's color?
People like me are paints and brushes.
I'm far from the norm like it's Pluto.
What is the name dado to those people?
Crazy.
Why crazy? We're people.
They just want to find a title
Of all libros that stand out in a shelf.
Some have imaginary companions.
Some are volcanoes erupting words and sounds.
Some just use their eyes as telescopes.
Being crazy doesn't mean being the offspring of Saden.
In this lifelong math equation,
people + crazy = people and
people + crazy also = world wide excitement.
Without those supposedly crazy,
There's no mental evolution.
Without crazy,
There's no imagination.
Without crazy,
Where's life's color?