*The words in this post are entirely my own and represent my feelings only. Some of the words may be emotionally triggering. The words are freedom of expression through a creative art form known as poetry.
Our journey is at a standstill with nowhere to go,
Ever wondered what it feels like being a number? Do you want to know?
Welcome to the 21st century, will you succeed?
It’s all about what’s financially best and not what’s best for his needs.
Anyone would think that autism is a new thing, the way I’m made to feel,
It’s like being trapped in the past thinking is this happening. Is this real?
Sitting tests not designed for autistic children to pass,
From birth, born and given a wristband labelled 2nd class.
His dad’s feeling guilty, saying it’s his fault, he made him born this way,
There’s a human attached to the paperwork; this is real life so that you know, ok.
Even with a golden ticket, still seen as a number, (you can’t win),
No sign but hearing a whispering voice saying there’s no room at the inn.
What’s inflexible and resistant to change? Will you guess correctly?
It isn’t an autistic person, and a clue is the word begins with E.
History labelled mothers of autistic children “refrigerator mothers,” now a nuisance mum.
Stepping forward, leaving my son feeling vulnerable, and us feeling numb.
Pushing away those who are willing to meet you in the middle will cause a divide.
I stand here saying I am proud of my son, (say it loud), no we won’t hide.
I’m left wondering is it all of us working together? As I’m figuring out what to do,
It is a crisis not protecting our children and education, shame on you.
I’m all about inclusion, but how about you?
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