• Replies 16 replies
  • Subscribers 28 subscribers
  • Views 3918 views
  • Users 0 members are here
Options
Related
Hints and tips
  • To quote someone's message, first select/highlight the relevant text, and then use the Quote button that appears
  • To "mention" someone, type @ followed by the start of the forum name, and choose from the list; that person will get a notification of being mentioned

Some verse on my experiences

cmerrick

Hello everyone, i've been writing on and off for nearly 5 years now as a casual hobby, to Various degrees of competance and i do occasionally like to write about how i feel with aspergers and how it affects me. i was going through my stuff and realized i wrote this nearly a whole year ago, never thought to put it up here. for entertainment purposes mostly, but maybe it can help some understand how it feels to have Aspergers. Oh and Critiques are always welcome Laughing

This is my world, so sharp and bright
I could not tell you how it looks
And you might read a hundred books
But you will never share my sight.

They gave me words that might explain
The differences 'tween you and I
Yet I know, when I look to the sky
my life needs no gilded chains.

This is my world, it’s all my own
Like glass tinted a different hue
I will never see the same as you
Just as my life is mine alone.

Different, yes, but far from broken
At heart I am the same as you
My gentle, caring heart is true
While names are but a simple token.

Parents

  • I picked up writing poetry this week, haven't done anything like this since primary school. This was one of my first attempts at a poem. 

    Somehow I feel oddly disconnected, but harsh words are like a knife,

    yet facing them almost everyday is to me a fact of my life.

    Just because my face might often hide what I feel inside,

    that doesn’t mean, as people think, that I have too much pride.

    I don’t ask for help because I feel ashamed to not comprehend,

    what others never feel the need to otherwise pretend.

    They probably can’t mend me, I think I was born this way,

    something different inside my brain, something here to stay.

    As I wait for answers, trying to hold up through the wait ahead,

    solace only comes from the comfort my new ASD friends spread.

    To them, the manner in which I think is perfectly logical.

    and to them the way I am is not what all else call abnormal.

    Biding time until the letter comes, with a single date,

    Telling me, when and where, I can get this worry off my plate.

    Never has any assessment, filled me with such mixed emotion,

    yet, somehow, I know I need this diagnosis so I can set my life in motion.

    I don’t need mended. I just need a little help to get on my way,

    to get things together so I can at long last feel more than okay.

    I know I have what they call ASD. I’ve rejected it for years on end,

    believing that this oddness would go, if enough mental energy I could expend.

    It didn’t work. It made me ill. This beast called depression grew and grew,

    until I just wanted it all to end. Reasons I could smile gradually became few.

    This journey isn’t easy; which I why I couldn’t do it all alone,

    as others are supporting me now, and throughout their worry has shone.

    Bygones be bygones, for now all understand much better,

    and as a family, taking this diagnostic journey, doing it altogether.

Reply

  • I picked up writing poetry this week, haven't done anything like this since primary school. This was one of my first attempts at a poem. 

    Somehow I feel oddly disconnected, but harsh words are like a knife,

    yet facing them almost everyday is to me a fact of my life.

    Just because my face might often hide what I feel inside,

    that doesn’t mean, as people think, that I have too much pride.

    I don’t ask for help because I feel ashamed to not comprehend,

    what others never feel the need to otherwise pretend.

    They probably can’t mend me, I think I was born this way,

    something different inside my brain, something here to stay.

    As I wait for answers, trying to hold up through the wait ahead,

    solace only comes from the comfort my new ASD friends spread.

    To them, the manner in which I think is perfectly logical.

    and to them the way I am is not what all else call abnormal.

    Biding time until the letter comes, with a single date,

    Telling me, when and where, I can get this worry off my plate.

    Never has any assessment, filled me with such mixed emotion,

    yet, somehow, I know I need this diagnosis so I can set my life in motion.

    I don’t need mended. I just need a little help to get on my way,

    to get things together so I can at long last feel more than okay.

    I know I have what they call ASD. I’ve rejected it for years on end,

    believing that this oddness would go, if enough mental energy I could expend.

    It didn’t work. It made me ill. This beast called depression grew and grew,

    until I just wanted it all to end. Reasons I could smile gradually became few.

    This journey isn’t easy; which I why I couldn’t do it all alone,

    as others are supporting me now, and throughout their worry has shone.

    Bygones be bygones, for now all understand much better,

    and as a family, taking this diagnostic journey, doing it altogether.

Children
No Data