She is a bright pretty child

Lanky body, midnight hair,
Cherished smile, starlit eyes
A lovely girl in good care.

At first glance,
No one really notices.
Then starts whispering
“She is odd"
She hears no laughter
of her own.
Mere ghostly silence,
in her ears.
Considered not ‘normal',
in this world.

Only silence sounds
Since she was born.
Well acquainted
To people's scorn.
Schools refuse to aid
‘disabled children’!
What can't she accomplish,
except hear?

People say she can't speak a word.
She tells beautiful stories
With gestures of the hands
The language of grace,
Many would not understand.
Even it is as complex as any others,
They refuse to raise hands.

Being a diversity
Isn't a disgrace.
Born in a different nation,
Gain a distinct way of communication,
Is a pride.
She knows that,
Smart child.

She could be anything.
If she is treated ‘normal' as they are
Yet people deny
Push
And grimace.
Is it not ‘normal’,
having hardships?
She's not less fortunate,
nor at disadvantage
Instead it makes her
Stronger.