I just spoke with my mother,
She is helpful when she doesn't talk about me,
When she talks about me its on how funny I am that I mess up so easily,
On how funny my disability is,
On how funny it is that I don't get something that a "normal" kid would get,
On what a 9 year old gets and I don't,
On how much I can't do,
On telling me what I can't do because I can't adapt,
On telling me why I can't do something when I don't want to hear it because I always know why,
On what's basic knowledge of a 2 year old I still don't have,
So I talked to my mom today and I feel a lot better about myself.
It's a poem