Will you be my friend?

[Written on 5/2/2009]


I am human,
just like everyone else.
I eat to survive,
just like everyone else.
I drink, I talk, I smile, I frown,
I laugh, I cry, I see, I hear,
just like everyone else.
But everyone else,
doesn't consider me human.
They see me as an alien.
They look at me as if,
I don't belong.
Their smiles are full of pity.
Little children point their fingers at me.
Why, you ask.
Because I look different.
My body has been oddly formed.
My legs don't listen to me.
My arms stick out, in a strange way.
So I can't walk like others,
I can't write like others,
I can't talk as fluently as others,
I am not like others.
But I want to be considered human.
I want to play, like others.
I don't know about you,
but I don't care about my figure,
or my speech, or my limbs.
All I want is a friend.
A friend who doesn't see me from the outside,
but see's me from the inside.
But you normal people,
don't think of us happily.
You think of us pitifully,
which us special people hate.
Pity. That's what we hate.
Why do you think like that?
What can you do about us?
Can you change us?
No, you can't.
We will always be like this.
But you can act,
like you think I'm normal.
You can laugh with me,
share happy moments with me.
So I feel I'm normal.
I ask everyone
the same question.
Now I'll ask you again.
I want to be happy,
I want to be appreciated,
So, 
will you be my friend?