The playground sound of distant children’s laughter.
Brings nostalgic grins.
Providing you are not to near to see who is being
And see the cowering shaking shoulders.
Hear the bullies ego,
Hear the bullies spite
Scope the embryonic adults
And pity their future partners, children.
They called it Aspergers then –
Exceptional children with special needs.
Now the neurotypicals dismissive,
Call it – ‘On The Spectrum’.
The children in our town drove
My boy to the edge of self destruction.
While his school looked away.
All those years ago.
He’s so tall now, broad shouldered.
From bearing so much.
Says he can’t really love anyone,
To many betrayals from when
He believed what he was told.