You,

How does it feel
To smear the rainbow
That I painted with
My tiny hands.
Huh?

Then how does it feel
To laugh on my face
At the drawings made with
Whatever I had.
Huh?

How does it feel
To point to the ground
From the tiny window
Every now and then.
Huh?

Oh how does it feel
To point to the wall
With no where to go
And nothing to see.
Huh?

And how does it feel
To block my way
To the class I 'ted to join
With my little shiny eyes.
Huh?

Oh how does it feel
To break the chords
Of the' imaginary guitar
That I dreamt of playing.
Huh?

And how does it feel
Making silly jokes whenever
I couldn't connect text to reality
With all the IQ I had.
Huh?

Then how does it feel
Labelling 'talking back'
To almost every thing I wanted to know
With curious questions in my head.
Huh?

How does it feel
To call it illogical
Whenever I wanted to explain
The reasons for my actions.
Huh?

Then how does it feel
To scowl with disgust
At the...