Don’t call him weird
You’ll crush him
Don’t call him “special”
He’ll be suspicious
Don’t baby him
Dumb it down, make it easier
He can see right through you
Even if he won’t say so
Most people don’t know how to talk to Buddy
His autism confuses them
How do you talk to a guy
6’4, 20, and thinks like a preteen
Who braves public transportation but has
They try real hard
Others give up
And leave him alone
Some never even tried
Ensconced in his silence
Do they think he don’t notice?
Those who try and those who don’t
He knows them all
Words are a hard tongue to learn
Pictures were his first language
Colored pencils and gray shading show his ideas
To a world unable to understand his words
"My brain is broken," he tells me.
What is there to say?
“I can’t handle all the noise.”
“I just want to be alone.”
I was angry
I wanted to fix it
Then a new thought:
Is he the abnormal one
Or are we?
Are we weird ‘cause we can't understand him?
Or ‘cause we’re inflexible?
Are we “special” because we conform everyone to be like us?
Have we forgotten how to welcome the “oddballs”?
Have we become an exclusive society
Where only the normals get in?