by Trajan D. Fields
The eyes are on
As I make my path
To that place my teacher told me to sit.
Told men that I was special,
There’s a pretty girl in my class,
But even though I hope her eyes will meet with mine
They fall on my shortcomings.
Trapped in a chair with wheels,
That’s what they see in me.
There’s always my big brother
Who helps me get to class.
As he pushes me to the one room
Where I have friends that understand or don’t enough to call me a retard.
I can spell my name.
Like the other kids that pass by me
As they dare not speak to me even though I wave and say “Hello.”
I love my teachers,
Because they ask me how’s my day.
In that moment I fell
Not on the outside but on the inside
Because I can’t play the games I watch others play
As they Laugh, and I sit and clap.
But I live and breathe
Like everyone else.
I have a dream,
It comes and goes but never changes.
I walk and read without
I’ll make the others want to be me,
Like I long to be them.
I play football and the crowd cheers
As I make the final touchdown.
Then I get the pretty girl.
But dreams are
For people who can make them possible.
I can do it.
They just won’t give me the chance to try.
I don’t want to cry
I’m a person
Not a prisoner.
I have a heart
Unlike those who don’t want me near them.
Or am I?