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Aspie 1
If you see me distressed
on a bench in your area,
Don't try to ask me why
I feel the way that I do;
You won, t understand how I can't cope
with so much intense stimulation,
The crowds of people are making me suffocate,
So many cars are making me feel sick.
I can't cope, take me out of here,
Out of this pollution filled place,
Into the comforting quiet countryside,
Where I feel loved and safe.
poem
by
Alun Jones
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