What is wrong with me?
What’s wrong with you?
Is there anything even wrong with anyone?

Everyone knows that kid
You know.. that one kid
The really weird kid

People say he has a disorder
Disorder
What the heck is that?
Is it a defect?
Is that what it is?

Wait who said that’s what it was
Because now that I think about it
This defect this disorder
is a measure of
How far they’ve come and how far they’ll go

It’s not the rock in hop scotch
Telling you how far you can go
It’s the chalk in your hand
For you to use as you please
Drawing your future
Sketching your destinations.

People put it down
Making these things seem
Terrible
Detrimental
Destructive to the mind
And unfathomable.

But that last one…
That’s just what it is
THAT’S WHERE THEY’RE RIGHT

Fathom
Two yards
Six feet
72 inches
The height of an average man

That’s how close the truth is
But even with a short distance between them and understanding
They cannot distinguish the positives of these “DISORDERS”
Then they cannot fathom the reality of the fact that these
Defects we stamp on people with an iron fist
Are the chalk to their hop scotch.