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Array
(
[sid] => 143023
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Handicapable
[time] => 2008-06-07 04:33:24
[hometext] => I wrote this poem when I was injured. Maybe you can relate...
[bodytext] => During basketball, I sprained my right ankle very badly. Down on the floor in pain, I thought, “No! This can’t be happening!” Screaming and cursing, I thought my athletic days were over. My friends carried me to the bench, and I sat there in anger just watching them have fun, hoping to play sooner than later. Then, great grief struck me. There, I sympathized for the handicapped, the unfortunate ones with no hands, no legs, or crippled backs. I pictured a man in a wheelchair, strolling around the block, then being beaten, robbed, and shot by a group of thugs with Glocks. I imagined an old woman with a cane on the crosswalk as a speeding truck rams into her, but the driver does not stop. I envisioned a blind boy being teased about his ugly face. He covers his cheeks with his hands, and feels his distorted shapes. I pondered how lucky I was to have my own limbs and senses. If I were to be like them, I would assail God with questions, “Why me? What did I ever possibly do to deserve this?” No! Besides, whining could never improve any situation, but I believed that my injury was my revelation as I realized that the handicapped are the true athletes in how the blind can navigate when walking the city streets, in how they climb up the multitudinous stairs with no feet, in how they open their cars, buckle their belts, and drive with no arms, in how the deaf-mute can play fine music without their ears’ parts, and in how the many more accomplish the unthinkable! By these marvels, they are not handicapped, but handicapable. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 201 [topic] => 19 [informant] => Ambivalence [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => InspirationalPoems )
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