A short poem about autism and my son
My Little Monkey
My little monkey is a cracking little fellow
He runs round like a lunatic and is never, ever mellow
He likes to twirl in circles and crashes into things
He doesn’t understand the world, or the joy he brings
My little monkey, is a cheeky little chappy
Although he’s not a baby, at night he still wears nappies
He loves Thomas the Tank Engine, and running to and fro
I know that he loves us but it doesn’t always show
My little monkey, takes pictures all the time
He clings on to his camera. Without it he just whines
His favourite current pasttime, is being filmed wearinng a box
I don’t care that he’s abnormal, cos we think that he rocks!
My little monkey, he shouts and cries and screams
He finds everything so difficult, he’s not really being mean
He shouts if people look at him and they think that he’s bad
But he’s not, he’s just autistic and perhaps a little mad
So if you see my monkey and he’s like a thing possessed
He’s just having a meltdown, and that cannot be suppressed
Don’t look and tut just carry on, with what you have to do
And don’t judge another parent ’til you’re walking in their shoes.
