Social situations,
With ways that make me shake
Social inhibitions,
With ways of bringing ache
Aches from all positions,
Can tell that I’m not right
Aches on my depictions,
Can tell I’m in a fight
Fight across my missions,
My inner struggling
Fight across conditions,
My lack of juggling
So juggling the struggled mission,
My condition’s without pride
Start fighting off the right position,
As depictions run inside
My aching shakes the situation,
Inhibitions need a guide
I wish I were to wash my normal,
But my normal’s gone and died
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
define 'normal' as a mother with an aspergers child, and a friend to many other aspergers children, i have often wondered, are WE normal or are WE the jumbled individuals who make things far more complex than they need to be and aspergians and autistics really a few of the only 'normal' people left in our world