In a world of colors, some see red and some see blue,
In the song of life, some hear a different tune.
Being autistic is a special way to be,
With a unique lens to see and a heart that's always free.
Sometimes it means that lights might seem too bright,
Or sounds might seem too loud, both in day and night.
But it also means seeing details missed by many eyes,
Like a single fallen leaf, or a cloud that flies.
It might mean that changes feel a bit too strange,
And it's much more comforting when things don't rearrange.
Yet within familiar patterns, oh the joy it can bring,
Like the rhythm of a heart, or a bird taking wing.
Some may struggle with words, others talk a mile a minute,
There's a whole spectrum to autism, there's no single limit.
In their silence or their speeches, they express in their own way,
A symphony of thoughts that they wish to convey.
To be autistic means sometimes to be alone,
But also to have passions that are strongly sown.
In the depth of their interests, they dive so deep,
Unlocking secrets that the world can keep.
Being autistic isn't wrong, it isn't a mistake,
It's a different kind of journey, a unique path to take.
Autism is a rainbow, with many different hues,
An extraordinary way to walk, in their own special shoes.
So, when you meet someone who's autistic, dear friend,
Offer kindness and patience, a heart that will bend.