They Did

nobody wants to hear you sing

but they’ll pay gold and silver

to revel in your tragedy

cardboard empires draw laughter and comics

just pitiful renditions of the broken hearted

man and woman, down in their luck and wits

aren’t they more than a muse

for your twisted sense of privilege and worth?

if I could dream up a better world

I’d take a hundred of them

and none of you

school halls make mockeries

of those on the spectrum

assaulted by textbooks

and assistants who question

if they’ll ever truly “make it”

growing up with troubled thoughts

kicking rocks, hating ourselves

draw nooses on the sidewalks

sometimes I wonder

why did they try to hurt me?

and other times I believe

they actually did

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