#disabilities - Hello Poetry

Disabilities. They come in many a form, ranging from wheelchairs hospital beds, to comprehension mind damaged more than the body. In both these categories I lay. I am heard but not listened to. Will you truly understand the struggles I bear? from the ripe age of eight perhaps younger my empties left scrambled surgery after surgery medication packets, scattered another failed treatment. From the ripe age of eight, wishing I was normal. Another day off school Another needle Another seizure Another broken promise. At the drained age of fourteen, rotting in a bedroom laced with monitors wishing to be normal. Wishing I didn't have seizures wishing I wasn't underweight wishing this stoma never existed Wishing I could enjoy life like my peers and be normal.

0

Mar 1

Mar 1, 2026 at 6:16 AM UTC

sayonaratengoku

to be normal .

Disabilities. They come in many a form, ranging from wheelchairs hospital beds, to comprehension mind damaged more than the body. In both these categories I lay. I am heard but not listened to. Will you truly understand the struggles I bear? from the ripe age of eight perhaps younger my empties left scrambled surgery after surgery medication packets, scattered another failed treatment. From the ripe age of eight, wishing I was normal. Another day off school Another needle Another seizure Another broken promise. At the drained age of fourteen, rotting in a bedroom laced with monitors wishing to be normal. Wishing I didn't have seizures wishing I wasn't underweight wishing this stoma never existed Wishing I could enjoy life like my peers and be normal.

33

does my "less than" title make you better than me?

0

Feb 27, 2020

Feb 27, 2020 at 10:36 AM UTC

wintergirl

neurotypicals

does my "less than" title make you better than me?

3

Nothing about us without us, Always about us, you're without us. Including the moments in history, that deserve our religious screams, our outrage and defiance, The human rights that slip your systemic mind from time to time, because it comes with a billboard that has a painted letter of a capital D. We own the crippled and crumpled pages, Your oppression is our spark of history, Flattering the pages and creating a novel, a permenant marker of our precence. Will you pick it up and understand? We made our place in the palm of your hand, This is about us, and without us you wont stand.

0

Jan 7, 2020

Jan 7, 2020 at 4:43 PM UTC

shaylie-pryer

Nothing about us, without us

Nothing about us without us, Always about us, you're without us. Including the moments in history, that deserve our religious screams, our outrage and defiance, The human rights that slip your systemic mind from time to time, because it comes with a billboard that has a painted letter of a capital D. We own the crippled and crumpled pages, Your oppression is our spark of history, Flattering the pages and creating a novel, a permenant marker of our precence. Will you pick it up and understand? We made our place in the palm of your hand, This is about us, and without us you wont stand.

11

Dear Brother, I was struggling. Anxiety attacks and utter insecurity, The pit in my stomach was a permanent crater But I saw you At recess, standing on the blacktop alone And I forgot about myself They told you you couldn’t play football with them. Your limp was horrible, you didn’t understand the rules exactly Boys running up to tap me on the arm Yelling “Get him away from me” “Tell him to leave me alone” How am I supposed to tell my brother no one wants to be his friend No one wants to talk to you Ryan because they can’t understand what you’re saying They don’t even want to try. Everyday the school called home, he’s hopeless Detentions for yelling at the teacher, The one who didn’t bother to notice he was trying And he did try too, so hard So hard he came home calling himself stupid Because that is all he summed up to at the glories of public highschool Mom cried, and Dad tried to give her hope That someday people would treat you right And I prayed that I wouldn’t keep hearing kids mutter your name in the hallways Completely unknowing that you were my brother And all the times your frustration built, Holes in the wall and broken door frames I never ever blamed you. Now we stand side by side at graduation And I want you to know, I couldn’t be more proud of us. Dear brother, You will always be one of the best things that ever happened to me

0

Jan 7, 2019

Jan 7, 2019 at 11:28 AM UTC

karaashleyy

Dear Brother

Dear Brother, I was struggling. Anxiety attacks and utter insecurity, The pit in my stomach was a permanent crater But I saw you At recess, standing on the blacktop alone And I forgot about myself They told you you couldn’t play football with them. Your limp was horrible, you didn’t understand the rules exactly Boys running up to tap me on the arm Yelling “Get him away from me” “Tell him to leave me alone” How am I supposed to tell my brother no one wants to be his friend No one wants to talk to you Ryan because they can’t understand what you’re saying They don’t even want to try. Everyday the school called home, he’s hopeless Detentions for yelling at the teacher, The one who didn’t bother to notice he was trying And he did try too, so hard So hard he came home calling himself stupid Because that is all he summed up to at the glories of public highschool Mom cried, and Dad tried to give her hope That someday people would treat you right And I prayed that I wouldn’t keep hearing kids mutter your name in the hallways Completely unknowing that you were my brother And all the times your frustration built, Holes in the wall and broken door frames I never ever blamed you. Now we stand side by side at graduation And I want you to know, I couldn’t be more proud of us. Dear brother, You will always be one of the best things that ever happened to me

33

It's become a routine Letting guys use me I settle for below my league Or so my friends tell me From mental disabilities To family issues They still get me on my knees I don't want to be the lock I want to be the keys Choosing which door I fit Not letting them unlock me

0

Sep 26, 2018

Sep 26, 2018 at 12:03 AM UTC

mjad

Keys

It's become a routine Letting guys use me I settle for below my league Or so my friends tell me From mental disabilities To family issues They still get me on my knees I don't want to be the lock I want to be the keys Choosing which door I fit Not letting them unlock me

11

Don’t see only our disabilit-ease, Don’t deny us basic facilit-ease, Don’t ignore our many abilit-ease, Don’t compound our varied difficult-ease, Deal head-on with the harsh realit-ease. You never know what life has in store, You may fall one day and rise no more, You may join our ranks, afraid, unsure, You may write words to plead; implore. We are not an alien race, We have a voice, we have a face, We have our part to play; a place. Let us join life’s lively dance, Let us have an equal chance. Pl-ease.

0

Sep 12, 2017

Sep 12, 2017 at 2:47 PM UTC

clive-blake

Pl-ease

Don’t see only our disabilit-ease, Don’t deny us basic facilit-ease, Don’t ignore our many abilit-ease, Don’t compound our varied difficult-ease, Deal head-on with the harsh realit-ease. You never know what life has in store, You may fall one day and rise no more, You may join our ranks, afraid, unsure, You may write words to plead; implore. We are not an alien race, We have a voice, we have a face, We have our part to play; a place. Let us join life’s lively dance, Let us have an equal chance. Pl-ease.

15

why does people make fun of people with disabilities because they feel week about themselves Disabilities Disabilities Disabilities Why does people make fun of people who have disabilities because they feel week about themselves and want too make other feel week so they can feel better about themselves but they feel worse about themselves because no one is perfect because God created people with disabilities to show other that you do not have to be perfect because the way you are is perfect to God because everyone get mad and sad we all are human ever you black or have a disabilities you are still a human because u get mad and sad like everyone else does because because God see beautiful in everyone © Amanda Kay Hill 11/28/14

0

Jan 10, 2017

Jan 10, 2017 at 2:01 AM UTC

amanda-kay-hill

Disabilities

why does people make fun of people with disabilities because they feel week about themselves Disabilities Disabilities Disabilities Why does people make fun of people who have disabilities because they feel week about themselves and want too make other feel week so they can feel better about themselves but they feel worse about themselves because no one is perfect because God created people with disabilities to show other that you do not have to be perfect because the way you are is perfect to God because everyone get mad and sad we all are human ever you black or have a disabilities you are still a human because u get mad and sad like everyone else does because because God see beautiful in everyone © Amanda Kay Hill 11/28/14

30

Do we remember John? He was what we'd call a Simpleton, Back when we were young. He stood in his brown cloth coat, Carried a notepad and a pen, We suspected he had half a tongue, Making notes on roadside lawns, Near every manhole. John was busy inside his head, We never got a word he said. Who was John before John was dead? Did you know Stanley? We didn't see him much. He'd appear in the hood on holidays. Probably went to New Hope School, Where he was kept. Stanley swore a lot, He threw snot, drooled and spit at us. We poked fun, and provoked, Felt blameless, For Stanley's condition was kept from us. Segregated, And not because of colour.

0

Nov 21, 2016

Nov 21, 2016 at 9:34 AM UTC

francie-lynch

Not Because of Colour

Do we remember John? He was what we'd call a Simpleton, Back when we were young. He stood in his brown cloth coat, Carried a notepad and a pen, We suspected he had half a tongue, Making notes on roadside lawns, Near every manhole. John was busy inside his head, We never got a word he said. Who was John before John was dead? Did you know Stanley? We didn't see him much. He'd appear in the hood on holidays. Probably went to New Hope School, Where he was kept. Stanley swore a lot, He threw snot, drooled and spit at us. We poked fun, and provoked, Felt blameless, For Stanley's condition was kept from us. Segregated, And not because of colour.

23

The face and body of a million others because of the 21st chromosome. The movements and quirks of a million others because of a little spectrum. The testers and medication of a million others because of a tiny chemical. Down syndrome. Autism. Diabetes. The most loving person I know.

0

Dec 6, 2015

Dec 6, 2015 at 5:14 PM UTC

christina-cox

Robbie

The face and body of a million others because of the 21st chromosome. The movements and quirks of a million others because of a little spectrum. The testers and medication of a million others because of a tiny chemical. Down syndrome. Autism. Diabetes. The most loving person I know.

8

I oftentimes realize my inability To speak outright about my personality I oftentimes don't know where to start Which leads to a brain **** Of catastrophic proportions And unable to contort my words into sentences I simply give up, the subject unfinished Because of this tragic disability in my speech I feel that my way of expression is weak And the many things I want to say About anything in general comes back to stay In my mind, in my brain, in my train of thought And entails to derail from the tracks The entrails staining the grass But when I get behind a keyboard My ideas become fluently versed Almost rehearsed And I search for a chat That'll cover a vat Of subjects at the bat The words flow from my brain Through my veins To my heart To my arms And out of my fingers and onto the screen Where, for once, I can clearly read What I wanted to say And smile with glee As I finally make My testimony

0

Aug 20, 2015

Aug 20, 2015 at 5:46 PM UTC

dustin-a-owens

Stuttering

I oftentimes realize my inability To speak outright about my personality I oftentimes don't know where to start Which leads to a brain **** Of catastrophic proportions And unable to contort my words into sentences I simply give up, the subject unfinished Because of this tragic disability in my speech I feel that my way of expression is weak And the many things I want to say About anything in general comes back to stay In my mind, in my brain, in my train of thought And entails to derail from the tracks The entrails staining the grass But when I get behind a keyboard My ideas become fluently versed Almost rehearsed And I search for a chat That'll cover a vat Of subjects at the bat The words flow from my brain Through my veins To my heart To my arms And out of my fingers and onto the screen Where, for once, I can clearly read What I wanted to say And smile with glee As I finally make My testimony

30