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rain falls like
streams of our
subconscious
in a dream.

she was no
small dream
but she has faded
like a song.

paint your
dream town
red.

everything is
just a dream.

fall inside your
rabbit hole and
dream of cabbages
and kings.

scream my name -
make love like it’s
your dream because
it’s my dream too.

sweat and breathe
emotions as our
dreams connect

we will connect
and move like tides
of some forgotten shore
where dreams exist
in layers like the sand
and we can live forever.

©Ben Ditmars 2014
Love of Wisdom
You don’t seem so wise to me
You spend all day questioning
Searching

I’ve noticed this double standard
you don’t like to be searched
you don’t like to be questioned
you object to my endless curiosity

I’m curious
I’m headstrong
I speak my mind
I act

You told me not to try to change you
I ask that you extend me the same courtesy
Can you feel this fear
Orchestrated by a tear
Made by a scared thought
Pushed by what the mind taught
Listen now to this trembling story
Illustrated by an apologetic sorry
Compacted by a mirror broken
Agony of those words never spoken
Time came when terror made a mark
Erupted to ignite this morbid spark
Darkness becomes a tad complicated
Copyright Chris Smith 2014
The puzzle is never solved.
They are looked at and pointed at
by children who don't know
that we're supposed to pity them.

Oh Son, Oh Daughter
they have Autism!
Oh, I feel so bad!


The straight jackets and shocks
have turned to stares and mocks.

They didn't to choose to be born this way
a piece of a puzzle that doesn't fit.

We look at them and thank God that its
not us.
Its not me.
But the indifference doesn't work.
We thank God that its not us.

But do we ever feel any empathy?
If you could imagine having a retardation
never really fully understanding anything

A chromosomal abnormality that would
affect your whole life forever.

Having to be watched
always having someone taking care of you
you would never have any independence.

Autism seemed to be their name
"he's Autistic"
It wasn't their name.
There is much more to them.

These people used to be tortured
people thought that they had a demon inside of them
that we had to get out.

What we never realized was that
the real demon was us.
The puzzle metaphor is a symbol for the "Autism Speaks" Foundation.
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