by Rob Targos (c) 1999
It doesn’t matter what I decide to wear.
They look away from my body or worse, they just stare.
Even if I picked plain clothes,
people still set their focus on my awkward pose.
My crutches have nothing to do with how I dress.
Brand-name doesn’t matter, that would be my Guess.
My walk may be seen as comical,
That’s how I draw attention like a different sort of runway model.
I try not to dress loud,
but the sounds of my disability crutch clicks notifies a crowd.
Feeling nervous, I make an effort to walk proud.
But I am followed by a nagging black cloud.
I will finally make good use of my uniform.
But it was little protection as I weather the gathering storm.
I didn’t have an inconspicuous hood.
Against ill-fashioned faces, alone I stood.
I searched frantically for a space,
Among the group where it had a safe place.
There was no room, so I started a close race.
I desperately wanted to keep ahead of the pace.
Despite being in great fitness shape,
there were flaws in my hurried plan of escape.
How can I fit in and stand out?
Please address this issue and tell me what you figure out.