My words are now "My Words" and yours, because you said so.
Not so fast!
I earned those thoughts, me,
slogging through
the decades of complete unknowing.

First a kid and then a man,
autistic with no sense of why
the world and I had such estrangement -
"Be like us!" was all I heard -

Til finally, with some awareness,
being me became all right
And being me became a strength
And being me meant speaking out.

And so I did - at first with poems,
then later on with presentations,
talkin' 'bout my Life Autistic
sharing what I've learned so far.

And just like in the movies, seems
my hardships have become my treasure,
insight gained by walking through
whatever Circumstance dictated...

Others (mostly children) now
are dealing with this kind of stuff,
their parents, teachers, therapists
are trying to help - they really are -

So getting tips from an insider
seems to have some value to them,
seems to help them in their struggle
brings a sense of hope and calm.

And that's the point - my joy these days
is offering experience,
not "Here's the answer!" by a long shot,
just another point of view...

But mine, you see, because I've earned it,
callouses and scars and all,
the centerpiece of what I've lived,
my gift of hope, my gift of love.

It's all right there, the poems and talks,
the metaphors and illustrations,
Anyone is free to read 'em
Anyone is free to learn

Whatever I can pass along.
The words are mine, but what they point to
didn't originate with me;
it's been around for much, much longer.

"Look at this!" my writings say,
not "Look at me!" - that's not important -
Someone needs to write this stuff,
someone who's been there, that's all.

Took many years for me to make
these contributions - all those words -
but all that work has paid off finally,
serving others, being heard.

Yet now you've swiped them, cut-and-paste,
and call 'em yours with all those others,
Nice collection? Not worth having.
Why?
You haven't earned it, son!