The sterile smell of hospital
suppresses me as I sit
and watch the hours tick by,
time moving at snail speed.

Hand in hand
a boy and his mother walk in,
shattering the silence
as if it were a crystal vase.

Moaning and groaning
he drags his mother towards the exit,
but her grip is too tight
on his white t-shirt.

Like a dog on a leash, that boy.
And I am not surprised
for AUTISM is engraved across his forehead.
Arial bold, font size 48.

But, what’s on the inside?
Inside he is a boy
A boy who desperately causes a scene
because he is sick of being treated like he’s sick.
A boy who moans loudly,
like a tuba in a marching band,
because that’s how he communicates in his world of silence.
A boy who runs away
because he wants to be free like the other children,
rather than trapped like a prisoner behind bars.
Trapped in a world
where nobody can see that
he is a boy, and he is human.

Just like you and i,
with fear, and with desires.
With excitement, and with exhaustion.
With curiosity, and with knowledge.
Yes, he is human.
And yes, he has feelings too.