How This Started

The room was unusually dark that tinny night, As music and laughter replaced the light, Toasts were given for proud glories earned, As horrors of war exploded and burned. My warrior father, the subject of such great acclaim, My worrier mother forgot to bring me a plate, And my brothers all dressed in their best Sunday clothes, Had to act proper and do as they were told. For the party they would roam, While I remained quietly in my room, ...beyond the stares of the crowd, And people in whom Dad was proud. I was free from ties and shoes, I was free from table manner rules, But I missed being included, And grew tired of being secluded. You see, way back in the day, Everyone knew the proper way, To hide a retarded kid, Especially one who looked as I did. But I really have to tell you it was great, I mean you didn't even have to sit up straight, Then at seven it came crashing down, I accidentally proved I was mentally sound. With a simple operation to uncross my eyes, And a few simple tests for I.Q. size, The kid with promise grew from that kid retarded, And that, my friend, was just how this started.