My Shoes

I have this thing called ADHD The H isn’t silent, I’ll help you to see Ever since I was small, it’s lived inside me It affects who I was, am and will be Most people know, the layer on top A tid bit of knowledge before the facts stop Evaluating their lives, they tend to conclude From the limited facts, they must have it too But I need to speak up, I yearn to be heard This isn’t a fad, or something I’ve learned But rather, a voice, indecisive and quick Listing my options, insisting, I pick It never shuts up and will never be pleased Off my terror and panic, it greedily feeds Trembling with jitters, it fears the unknown I lock in my choice, but it never moves on Attached to my ear, I gave it a name This relentless voice is none other than shame Guilt and short comings, smeared in my face A constant reminder, I’m not fit to race The H stands for hyper, when in fact, I am tired It refers to my brain and the way it is wired I fidget when seated and excuse myself often I come across rude, but my shoes must be walked in I desperately try to absorb, process and act I work hard to be average and display enough tact But a fairly small task becomes a tricky ordeal My response is to panic. It’s an everyday drill It’s mental exhaustion, causing physical fatigue I’m smart, but I’m slow. No patience to read I’m resentful and sad. It seems so unfair But these are my shoes and my shoes I must wear