I am your typical girl

Living a typical life

Breathing typical air

Seeing you all with a typical eye

'

I don't have an extraordinary style

If you don't count the limp I have

I don't have an extraordinary smile

If you don't count my crooked tooth

I don't have an extraordinary face

If you don't count my million freckles

I don't have an extraordinary dialect

If you don't count my stutter

'

All those around me

Paint me with colors

Darker than I am

Adjusting the contrast effects

Darkening me out

Making me stick out like a sore thumb

When in reality I am a far cry

From what they make out me to be

'

They don't take in the piece of detail

That it's my physical plane

That went wrong

But not my insides

'

They don't realize

I have a heart too

That pretty much aches

For everything they do

To spoil the painting of me

By them

More and more

'

After all I am My Creator's creation

Just like them

'

However He creates us

Is what is perfect for us.

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It so happens that people with disabilities have minds akin to mines; of the rare and one in a million kind. This is written from a thirteen year girl's point of view. She doesn't know how harsh the world is around her.
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©VioletEden