People are born different,
And treated like they’re somehow wrong.
But those who believe the different ones are less,
Cannot say why.
Which leaves we who think,
A person is never a mistake,
To challenge and defend.
A kid in a wheelchair is the same as one who’s not,
They won’t start a fight,
Or at least they don’t want to
Or maybe they will, anyway,
Even though they don’t want to,
The same as the rest of us.
So why do we treat them as different?
No one can tell.
We “normal ones” don’t even react…
We just watch the show.
Do they feel the same as us?
Perhaps we should ask.
I guess we’ll always wonder,
(at least I will)
Why we treat these people differently,
Sure, they were born different, but aren’t we all?
They were simply born uniquely different than the different of us all.
Some of us are short,
Others are tall,
So why do we judge them?
Just to lead them to despair?
A mouth,
A nose,
Ears,
Hair,
There isn’t any reason to stare.
No one should even care.
Murchison
8