My Friend named A

When I first met them all anyone called them was special

They were put in different classes,hardly ever with the other kids

I went up to them one day and asked their name ,they told me to call them A

A treated subjects it hated ,like the veggies they were force fed by their parents

A told me once that sometimes it feels like 6 t.v.’s are playing all at once in their head

A got mad when they were called “special”, I once asked Why ?Isn’t a compliment?

And they replied “Don’t you see that it’s been twisted for discrimination?Turned into a crutch people laugh at or stare at with sad eyes

Don’t you see ,I don’t want your pity

Don’t want what you dare call help,that over 80% of the time has only hurt

Don't you see that discrimination has thrown “special” into the dirt?

Like it did with the n words? Or the word alien or fag?

All those words were just walkin about one day ,then someone decided to exclude it,yell at it,and make it a punchline,and it rarely spoke up ,when it did all anyone did was shrug it off.”

I didn’t know what to say,and to this day I still don’t

Then in 10th grade ,we finally shared a class together,and the teacher with the attendance sheet

Called out ….ADHD,A rose their hand and their voice was at the rare voice volume of quiet,when they said “here”

I looked at them and asked them why they never told me?

They shrugged and replied that they thought it was obvious

And I guess it was,I was given plenty of hints,it was just never explicitly said

A was loud,smart ,hardworking,and often unattentive a mixture,most teachers,hell most people didn’t know what to do with,including A

My parents tell me to stop talking about A,stop being their friend,that it’ll keep me unsuccessful

My parents didn’t understand that A is someone you can’t ignore

Because he sees and notices things no else pays attention too

Their mind moves faster than their body,they do things based on what feels right and man the art that comes from that could fill a hundred museums

And when they love something ,it’s like for a few moments that is the only t.v. on

Like a kid sneaking bits of food,that’s supposed to be served only on holidays

A can’t be ignored,they are too significant

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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