They say my kids are broken

‎"Your kids are broken" they tell me.
"Both of them" they say.

One of them isn't growing like we like,
The other one can't learn to read and write.

"They're behind" they tell me again
"in ways that baffle our minds"


‎"There's no chapter on them in our books,
they are too 'one of a kind'."

I listen intently to their slurs
and wonder what went wrong.

I realized that it was nothing
These adults were just ding dongs.

I tried to stop the words from coming
but they would not be subdued.

I said as calmly as I could,
"I've something to tell you:
My children are loving, respectful, and kind
you say these things because you fear it.
How dare you say my kids are broken?
You're trying to break their spirit.
I will not allow it,
nor sit idly by
while you try to make them 'normal'
and tell them not to cry
Or laugh or giggle or get out of their chair
or mismatch their clothes or spike their hair.
My kids aren't cookie cutter
but they are amazing.
Instead of critiquing
You should be praising.
They're wonderful little people
they see right through you when they look.
That terrifies you
and that's why you try to fit them in a book."