The Difference Made

To be different is a gift.
Some may say,
Is a blessing.
A blessing,
One is born and special to get.
However,
Often they are the ones...
To reject and not accept.
Day in and day out.
Kept reminded,
Of their difference.
To hear it and listen to the negativity.
That comes out...
From ignorant mouths.
With it done to pretend,
Of having thick skin.
To move around and about.
Without a feeling to feel inside of them felt.

Yet...
Continue,
The ones depicted different.
And unlike others,
Normalized with approved dysfunctions.
Those labelled different,
Do what they do best.
To accept to learn, observe and view,
Others who declare themselves...
Approved like the rest for everything they do.
Yet also much different,
From the ones...
Who live to respect others done to choose...
A not passing of judgement.
With a doing to prove,
Being different...
Is a much better way to live.
Than being amongst fools.
Fools.
Quick to identify and qualified accepted.
Wherever they go,
Not noticed at all to make a difference made!
Nor knowing what it takes to prove,
A making of a difference made can be done!
And to do.
Regardless of what label picked to select,
Is tattooed on their backs to attract attention!