To the Humans

There’s little human in the way I think —

You see the superficial me, the me

You’ve made me show as you forced me to shrink

And grow more you and greater, lesser, free.

I really see an oddity when I

Am watching each of you — you seem to me

An oddly acting ape — I don’t deny

That I seem that to you — we’re neither free.

We must project ourselves to socialize —

But I’m mistaking you, and you of me —

It took a son, and years, to realize

Our foreignness — that shock has set me free.

But you’ve mistaken me for you, but worse

In thought and speech and action — look at me

And you see you, and that is where the curse

Has always lay and will not set me free.

I am an alien to how you act

And think — I hear you speak nonsense to me

In petty gibberish — I have no tact,

But speak my mind — you censor, I am free.

I fault you for not loving only truth —

But I embarrass you, you censor me,

And I become withdrawn — I’m not uncouth,

Just different socially — and you’re not free.

You stare; I will not look — you do not care

About too much; obsessions filling me

Drive all my actions — I will rarely spare

Your feelings; censorship, though, sets you free.

My social awkwardness belongs to you —

I’m fine just as I am — let me be me

And not a poorer you — let me be true

And that will help us both improve, be free.