My poem “Aspie: A Poem For Aspergers Awareness” has been published by Sharnoff’s Global Views here. I hope by being published it will raise mental health and more specifically Aspergers awareness to a greater extent.
“What is truth?”-
Said the sinner to the sinless.
So blinded was he, to the unified reason-
That with truth plated to him in human form-
He replied, with scorn, a quick retort-
“What is truth?”
Unknowingly you tripped me…
Into a wonderful abyss
Down, down I went
This contrived conundrum!
Will I find you at the bottom-
In some sight of light?
Or is this some surreal trap?
I will be oblivious till I reach the end-
I am unworried, unfettered by fate…
Beautiful poem from Marlene Gutschmidt:
Solid reasoning thrown to the fire,
In favour of etiquette, the manners of the superior!
Surely truth is better than fake flattery, fabricated compliments-
Better words be straight than bent.
Call me hell-sent if you will,
My bluntness may be an odd divergence from the norm-
But I would rather tell the truth, be in the right-
Than tell the blind they have sight!
What is this organisation of cordialities?
So natural to the sheep , the crowd.
Not to me, their obviousness, so bewildering.
Shall I try and fit in?
Force my heart and mind into a unnatural contortion?
I would if I could-
I sometimes ponder.
But it is a impossibility, an unattainable objective…
So I stay as I am-
In this crowd of socialites, those who are energised by other people, a self perpetual cycle!
I stay as I am-
An awkward, inelegant introvert-
The outspoken, odd one out…
But no matter if I stay quiet,
Or if I shout-
Some will stay perplexed at my differentness
This disposition I hold-
Some will always think me somewhat cold
And so they leave me, altogether overwhelmed…
Written by me and originally published in Sharnoff’s Global Views.
We are not of a kind-
You- a reclusive loner,
I- a lonely recluse.
The less I look, the more I see-
A precious peculiarity!
Are we not of a kind?
Those who try and look inside,
Who peel back my mind-
To find some revelation of my whole,
Or perhaps some segment of my soul.
You will fail to break me,
Or prise me apart-
To make me confide,
The pattern of my chaos…