Don’t stare with bewilderment
To say as, say this, say in whispers heard
Mention a word and spell with ease
To check, and check and check again,
My keys, my phone, words spelling too
And still not see, where things do lie,
Where letters disjoint, in forming tête-à-tête
Look and say; what's wrong with him
Its not by choice, am not a dunce
Don't patronise me so, gesture as jester
And call me stupid
I am, the word-smith, dabbler you came to know
I write, I utter and to you; thoughts provoke
Such metaphoric connections,
Your intellect bow to, in appreciation's gestures
In sing songs, such masterful sounds of music sang
In painting, always a master piece to hang
My speeches are moving, I utter with grace
Effortlessly in doing so, it brings smiles to faces
But then, in spelling bee, to have become lean
To spell they as there,
Their as thier, exact, as exert
Don't call me stupid, its not by choice
To my mind, its what it sees, and reads as so
Being forgetful is not by choice regard
Sorry to have to ask, again again
Your "name", your "name", please again
To maths, I am brilliant,
To maths I am not sometimes pulling out hair
In my mind, its entangled in abstract
But don't call me stupid, its not by choice
For Information: http://www.fsc.yorku.ca/york/rsheese/psyc1010/wiki/index.php/How_does_dyslexia_affect_children_of_primary_school_age%3F
