In the depths of my pen's silent slumber,
I yearn to weave words once more,
But alas, I stumble, seeking themes to explore,
A plight that tugs at my soul's core.
Why do they brush aside, these thoughts I express?
As if my voice bears no weight or might,
Neurodivergent whispers, dismissed in distress,
Only understood by those sharing my light.
Is their lack of comprehension truly amiss,
Or a conscious choice to ignore our grace?
Oh, the frustration that engulfs my soul's abyss,
To speak in tongues unknown, in this space.
Like a topsy-turvy tale, a Dr. Seuss lore,
I find myself in a world askew,
Where right appears wrong, truth masked as lore,
And I wonder, was Seuss autistic too?
For in the spectrum's kaleidoscope hue,
Lies brilliance that defies conventional sight,
Intelligence, kindness, fairness imbued,
Autistic souls that shimmer with might.
Shall consciousness awaken, a radiant dawn,
When allistic eyes truly perceive,
The inherent worth we've carried all along,
Reflected in us, a chance to believe.
Yet, until that day dawns upon their sight,
We're but shadows in a society's gaze,
Unseen, undervalued in the world's light,
An unfortunate truth, a heavy malaise.
But still, I'll lift my voice, raise it high,
For the song within me must resound,
In hope that someday, they'll finally spy,
The beauty in neurodivergent hearts, unbound.