Little John – the handicapped boy

a poem by Smita Khadawala

Little John don’t feel shy
You are imperfect and so am I,
Your eyes stare into some distant land,
You don’t need to see the bad world around you,
Your feet don’t touch this unholy land,
But float into the sky like a wingless birdie,
Your lips don’t speak,
But your touch does,
It is more tender than the words we hear,
The so called normal people around,
Run they will to an unknown place,
But you know your goal,
And will reach there at a steady pace,
So your heart don’t pain and your eyes don’t cry,
For you are imperfect: BUT SO AM I.