Autism poems can tell you about the world of autism like few other mediums. And people with ASD are often in a world of their own, especially when they’re young children. Poems can express so much. Poetry is so open, if that makes sense. So much love. So much hurt. So many commonalities. So much peace. So much anger. So many feelings.
The autism poems here are uncensored. They represent different views. But they all have one thing in common; All of these poems are written by people affected by some form of Autism Spectrum Disorder. Whether it be written by a parent, a grandparent, or a person who has been diagnosed with autism.
Looking for things that are more on the humorous side? Try Autism Rhetoric: The Original Autism Comics.
by Amand Post
My little boy, this love of mine,
Does not know how to say;
Please give me room for every time,
His words get in the way.
You would not know by passing by,
The struggles everyday:
But try to look him in the eye,
You’ll see it in his face.
You may not understand how hard,
Small tasks in life can be;
How difficult to speak aloud,
Or learn your ABC’s.
And just because he doesn’t hug you,
Or kiss you hi and bye;
Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you,
Please just give him time!
Through all the tantrums, fights and tears,
I look at him and see;
A little boy with tons of fears,
Who strives for normalcy.
Of course he sees he’s different,
But he just can’t see why;
Everybody’s time is spent,
Trying to make him ‘right’.
Open up your heart and mind,
And just watch quietly;
You’ll see a boy who’s really trying,
Just wants to be happy.
He’s just a scared little boy,
With every sight and sound;
I know he plays with just one toy,
And spins around and round.
I know sometimes he’ll yell and scream,
He simply cannot say;
He is not trying to be mean,
Things have to be his way.
All he can say is ‘It’s not right’,
Sometimes it seems unreal;
He can’t express though try he might,
To tell you how he feels.
I know that he repeats himself,
And sometimes others too;
Believe me that does really help,
Anxiety to be removed.
So please be patient and be kind,
Love him everyday;
I know in your heart you will find,
A place for him always.
He is my special, beautiful boy,
Whom I love endlessly;
He is my gift, my love, and my joy
He’s everything to me
by Kate Gladstone
You have a lot of homework.
You try to do it well.
The math book’s full of typos.
The teacher cannot spell.
You point this out. She alters
Your grade from “A” to “C” —
And if you feel disgusted,
That’s your disability.
Of a Statue
The statue cannot feel their eyes.
It cannot know they’re really there.
No biting word can draw it’s blood.
No hurtful glance can make it care.
The statue keeps its vigil there.
It watches with unseeing eyes,
It has no envy of the ones
Who scamper pointlessly around.
But then a pair of piercing eyes
Seek out the statue where it waits.
They gaze into its soul so still;
A stone tossed in the tranquil pond.
Hello there, says the pair of eyes,
What are you doing over here?
And would you like to join with us?
We’ve room for just one more, you see.
The statue slowly shakes its head,
And, setting loose the dust of years,
It makes an odd, uncertain sound
As if to say, you speak to me?
The pair of eyes will not relent,
And as they meet the statue’s own
It sees that there’s a face behind
The eyes; a face filled with concern.
The statue makes its mouth a smile
And says with manufactured strength,
I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t bother me.
I just prefer it over here.
The eyes and face are satisfied,
Receding into their bright world.
They leave the statue quite perplexed,
Its point of view all broken up.
Perhaps there something to be said
For that that’s called Humanity,
Perhaps its worth the pain for one
Who can’t fit in to nonetheless
Still seek the bright society
Of those who fit in all to well;
To seek to see and to be seen
Because some of them care.
by Kate Gladstone
See, saw, Margery Daw,
The bullies grabbed her for a whacking.
When she fought, screamed, or hid, she was told (the poor kid) —
“It’s YOUR social skills that are lacking.”
Just Another Schoolday at EffectiveTreatment.org
by Kate Gladstone
Slick-ery Sick-ery Doc
He zaps us ’round the clock.
We scream, so then
He zaps us again
Behavior taught by shock.
For My Friend
by Linda Conrad
I know a little boy
He’s just adorable you see,
A person wouldn’t know by looking,
That he has a disability.
He has to practice and practice
To learn even the smallest things
Tasks that come easily to children developing typically.
Doctors call it Autism or ASD.
It means his brain is wired different and
He learns things better visually.
So make your directions short and precise
So his dependence on you will fade with time.
Patience, love, support and understanding
Is all that he is asking.
So when you meet this little guy
Smile and wave “Hi!”
His and your hard work
Will be worthwhile
When you get to see that charming grey eyed smile.
by Katie Kagan
This is our life, not yours.
If you care,
please do not stare.
When you laugh,
we break in half.
We are real.
We can feel.
We understand that,
we were not planned.
We are human.
My mind spins,
Because we don’t speak well…
We are seen as shy.
I cry for my girlfriend and I.
We try so hard,
To deal with our God-given card.
I want you to understand…
Our Autism was not planned.
We have Autism from birth.
We have worth.