I am an oddly shaped peg And if you try and fit me into A square hole I will struggle But I will adapt I will chip parts off And add bits there Until I look like everybody else And fit into your stupid Simple Hole And I will hurt But I will try And no one will notice that I cry When you donβt see Because this is not me But let me be my oddly shaped peg With my beautiful curves And different edges And give me something soft Give me clay Give me sand Give me something in my hand And I will make the most beautiful Patterns that you have never seen I will make new holes And odd shapes That make people stop and look I will glue the bits back on And mould myself back And smile at the square pegs And the square holes Because really They are different Just like me
Someone asked me what I struggle with, with dyslexia. It was easier to answer with a poem.