To the stranger in the mall,
and the classmate in the hall.
To the teacher in school,
and the lifeguard at the pool.
To the friend who makes jokes,
and all the other folks:

No, I am not deaf, I am not dumb,
my tongue is not broke and my lips are not numb.
I have not forgotten my name or my age,
my mind is not a simple blank page.

It is full of thoughts and musings,
but in this battle I am always losing.
I want, I try, I need to speak,
to share my feelings and my week.

The words don't come,
the sounds won't form.
I stand there dumb,
with a soul forlorn.

With this thorn, this stutter,
it is an accomplishment even to mutter.
My words are jumbled,
and I always fumble.

But this burden will not keep me down,
it will not trap me in a perpetual frown.
I am not alone in this fight,
for others are losing their might.

To be a light, that is what I desire,
to give people hope when they tire.
This is not an easy fight, it is not fun,
but it is possible, it can be done.

No, I am not able to rid myself of this thorn,
but it will not prevail; I will not be worn.
So to the ones who mock,
and the persons who gawk:

I wish I said this to your face,
but speaking is not a race.
All I ask is that you be patient with my words,
because all I want is to be heard.