Clockwork Man

I am a broken clockwork man,

Twice a day am I right.

For when most men stand

They stand without plight,

Though this isn’t true for me.

 

I’ve lived most of my life with gunk,

Cloggin up the gears of my mind-

My peers have always been good at clearing the junk

In their mechanisms, for years I’ve always needed solutions to clear mine.

For the longest time I was stuck just figuring out how to be

 

Normal. 

Help has always been given in

Ways that to others, would not be even worth the trouble.

For a long time while I was a kid, others could be forgiven

For thinking that I was autistic, or that I was just the weird kid- that was all they could see.

 

ADHD and Sensory Issues

They’ve always been the stick in my spokes

The rust in my cogs, the smog in my flues.

I know the thoughts that are always stoked,

“That kid doesn’t have mental problems, he just lacks focus and is lazy.”

 

I wish that were the case,

It’d mean that I simply didn’t care about my own or others wellbeing.

I’ve heard that argument touted and spat in my face,

Not knowing that I’ve been through Physical and Mental Therapy just to hear them screaming.

I am lucky

 

For a broken clockwork man

I can say I am doing alright,

You wouldn’t be able to tell from where stand

That I am broken, or the nights

That I have been taken to be a better version of me.

 

And as to when I knew,

Just when I grew

To be an adult like the rest of you

It was when I was able to 

Was when I stopped taking my medicine, and could finally be

 

Normal.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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