I go about my work
With hardly a thought
Except finishing the next project
Completing the new deadline
Contemplating, that $50 an hour is not enough
For my talents.
You come to the AFB unable to hear
Hardly able to speak;
They call you.
You come to my office
Waving from the hall
With this gigantic smile
That lights up my heart
You show me your badge with your picture
You wear around your neck on a chain
So proud you are to be like us, the ‘normal’ ones
I smile I wave, then wonder…
Who is truly disabled?
And why do we label you?
How many who have 20/20, who can hear
How many with an IQ of 165
Take time to smile and wave at me
From down the hall?
Which of them would face a new day
Knowing each morning their chores
Would include cleaning another toilet
Emptying another waste basket
Sweeping another floor.
All rights reserved. ©2009 by Sara Fryd