Imperfections Monitored

 

Imperfections Monitored 

 

I was too young to understand

To young to know

Imperfections were monitored

Lady said I will never talk normal

 

She took off the collar

Connected by a stream of wires

To a machine

After it vibrated my harmless voice box

 

Being a child at the time

I thought I was receiving shock treatment

 

Lady said, I will not talk like the other kids.

 

She picked the wrong word.

I said it the wrong way.

 

Unable to Repent.

 

Is that an accent?

Strangers would ask often.

Am I from New York or Bostan?

I would stay quiet.

Knowing

My voice comes through a pen.

Black ink flowing off the page.

Since

I realized I would never talk like the other kids.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Fighting Goliath

Day To Day Living with Schizophrenia

ANOSOGNOSIA: When We Were Young (A Memoir)