Special is a tag

There are all kinds.

Who am I to address normal?

What is it anyway?

Is it going out on Fridays

or being home on Freedays?

Something special is a tag

that everyone never has.

I met this young women,

she was special kind,

she acted strange

in places I would hide.

She danced and enjoyed herself.

When everyone looked,

she didn’t even noticed,

that’s pure and simple happiness.

Society has tagged them retarded

but actually they are normal ones,

living in their own world

full of things we can’t imagine.

They don’t care about evil looks

or harsh words we throw.

They are evidence of creativity,

they have no limits,

they think like little kids

who still learning and growing,

they are blank pages.

We must never pressure them

but appreciate the gifts they bring.

I assure we all could smile more

if limits wouldn’t excist anymore.

Limits we create by ourselves

about what could be

or what cannot be done.

One dislikes me and I quit,

other says I don’t fit

but this environment is all

that doesn’t suit me well.

Hell is here where we live

not some imaginary place

we are scared to leave.

Make it feel like paradise,

heaven could be home

not some place you need to go.

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