Dyslexia Poem by Mark Heathcote
Dyslexia
'God played a wicked trick on me.'
Giving me a poetic spirit, a poetic heart
but not the brains to learn or store
what others are all better equipped for?
'God, there's been times' I did hate you
deeply - 'dear God, forgive me.' I love you.
'Thanks to you, ' I was born in the digital age
that's serving to lift my voice into a sage.
'God, you played a wicked trick on me.'
Know-it's-me thanking you for all that.
For all that I've endured, loving you
know it's me thanking you from my heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/5/2025 5:15:37 PM # 1.0.0
In spite of, as you feel, God not giving you brain to learn and store, He had given you ample freedom to learn in the most noble. school named Life.He had equipped you with a rare talent in the form of poetry and you have succeeded with colors in it's curriculum. It is natural at this stage that having understood the reason behind His tricking you, you thank Him from the bottom of your heart. It was rather a boon in guise of a trick. Thanks for sharing. Regards.