Lament of My Life

I think I achieved a lot of what I desired, But failed at my best physical aspiration, Only dressing myself for ten days admired, Because I couldn’t overcome agitation. My parents came over all the way in the car, Scoffed and scoffed at me, got me foul looks, Because they knew that I could cold shoulder, And become credible in my atheistic hooks. However, I am happy everyday in knowing, That I attained normality, my real condition, Having been given a male OT for controlling, My spasms, having to that person a relation. Also, I think my mum didn’t want the blame, For failing with me first time when I was three, ‘Cos she claimed it was my personality, lame, Not hers, and her faith healing posits definitely. So when I tried hard with my doctor when 20, At university, after forty-minutes of OT time, When he happily became my desired male OT, And I dressed myself, I then had a normal line. But I reverted to my disabled self upon looks, From my parents after ten days and exploded, A volcano came up right inside of me, no nooks, So that was that, and I spasmed again defeated. But I have made most of the friends I imagined, Related to people with the same mind and heart, Had good times up the pup and on crawls destined, Answered questions in tutorials and took part. But I was isolated cold by my parents for my poetry, As a teen when I only had my poems on computer, When I only showed them to friends, carers, gentry, To acquire the care and get the respect perambulator. So I am happy now to be in an atheist anthology, With a few of my poems published for all to read, At Waterstones as well as in ebook technology, About Stephen Hawking, my hero of good creed.