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My future happiness depended upon school, 
They’re understanding of religious older parents,
Them constraining them with supervision, 
So that I could have autonomy in my garments. 

I mean, my parents let me wear what I liked, 
But were unspeakably forceful poignantly, 
Regarding who was going to dress and shower me: 
Women, not men who could interact with me perfectly. 

I wasn’t asking for all male carers, 
Just one or two out of maybe five, 
And I even offered to employ male nurses, 
Rather than just anybody alive. 

But my mum was disgusted at my suggestion, 
Said it turned her stomach and made her ill, 
Posited that I was not in my right mind, 
Said that I made her queasy and gave her a chill. 

The school’s social services seemed traditional, 
Just like their toilet facilities, old and outdated; 
The social worker had white, permed curly hair,
And so for parent disputes you could be slated. 

So I never got the help I required and needed, 
For my first care package at Glasgow University, 
So I suffered from rejection, shortness and selfishness, 
From my carers who were supposed to offer identity.

The wardens made it better for me every day, 
Reprimanded them for disrespect and impoliteness,
But I never even imagined that voluntary carers,
Could suffice for my own future astuteness. 

It upset my whole life, the schools neglect and indifference, 
When I think that living success could have been sorted out, 
My personal dignity and freedom could have been secured, 
With a bit of determination and secular, atheistic liberal clout. 

School is really just about your future, 
It claims it by its very definition, 
And the whole child should be taken and loved, 
Not just his or her abilities with cognition.

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