I often wonder what it would feel like to be like some our friends.Which Ones of Us Are Normal?
And then perhaps I would understand and with them I could make amends.
I sometimes wish I could be "not quite normal" for maybe just one day. Then maybe I wouldn't feel angry or think or say things that get in the way.
"Why did she hit me", "Why did he bite me?"
"Why is there spit in my face?"
"Why do they scream?", "Why do they cry and roll all over the place?"
"Why do they act so silly?", "Why can't they act their ages?"
Are these the sort of questions upon which normalcy gauges?But then as I quietly sit and really, truly observe,
I see that "NORMAL" is a label that should be held in reserve.
Because I can't really see a big difference in most of us and them,
And I don't hardly think that any of us should be the one to condemn.
"Did you know that he slept with her and he talks behind everyone's back?"
"He curses his friends under his breath, she called her a maniac!"
These are the ones who are supposed to be normal, what ever that word means.
These are the ones who get bent out of shape and tend to create more scenes.Who are we to say we are normal and to say some others are not?
Those abnormal things we all have done, some of us must have forgot.
Sometimes I wonder why I feel more at peace with those that others reject.
I guess I don't really understand making judgments about intellect.©1990
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