The Purpose (an already published poem by me Chris Matico)

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I have gifts and curses of every kind

I feel like sometimes  the cause makes me blind

This mental possision gives me a good amount of gifts

But as usual, karma comes its way

Aspurger's is what this obstical is called

It makes me happy and sick in all of my days

It sometimes stinks how I can't turn back the clock

Time and time again I fill with the mixture of feelings every time

I can make people laugh, I can make people cry

How come, exactly? I don't know why

I can fill up with sorrow and fill up with seeming rage

Other times, the human makes me feel like I am in a cage

This still makes me wonder, "What is my purpose?"

The kids make me feel like a dog on a leesh

They sometimes direct my emotions and views

But they may be danmed and I be myself

Because I am my boss, I direct my life

If you can't seepast that, then you are just blind.

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