There is a chair I often use
Which I'd rather just loose
People say being different is nice
But I'd rather roll the dice
The chair does not have a problem with me
It's clear I have a problem with it
I can't accept being this, the girl who can't walk
I hate it when they gawk, don't they have something better to do
The way they gawk makes me feel blue
I can't help the way I move or think
So they might as well throw their opinions in the bin
Why can't I be normal, whatever that may be?
It doesn't matter how much one might plea
They will always be the same
I will always be the same
This is the effect the wretched chair has on me
Which I must bear
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem