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
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