Born Special

Pity not their brittle looks
Perceive them not as pitiable lot
Twisted and taut limbs
Painful facial contortions
Wild tantrums, wavering moods
Stammering and slow thinking
Behind all these appearances
Dwell souls of supreme grit

Tender blooms in tenuous stems
Painting world in bright colors
Share fragrance with shaking winds
Deserving love, not pity
Dark, distorted rain clouds
Seemingly sad and spiritless
Shower us with drops of love
Stoking joy, not sympathy

Image Source - Google

Life hides its abundant strength
In all the forms that appear frail
Like the unseen silent breath
Offering sustenance to all beings
Just like clouds, little flowers
They too live by inner strength
So give them love, not sympathy
For they are no weaklings
They are, just, born special!