That Question

I hope they don’t ask me that question today.

I’ll freeze on the spot; I'll have nothing to say.

I don’t understand why I tremble with fear

But when I'm at school I cannot let them hear

At home I am me; a loud, funny clown

But when I’m at school, my voice just shuts down.

It simply stops working each morning at eight

As soon as I walk through that little school gate

People say hi but I can’t say hello

Just why i can't say it i really don’t know

At play time the children all gather around

They ask me to speak but I can’t make a sound

'go on' they say, 'just say one word for me'

But my throat is blocked. Not one word can get free

'why don't you talk?' they ask 'are you just shy?'

But I shrug my shoulders. I can't explain why.

Why is the question that I dread the most

I suddenly freeze and turn white as a ghost

I stand there unable to move, filled with fear

My eyes sting. I wish I could just disappear

If only they knew I hate being this way.

I do want to talk. I have so much to say.

I wish they could see that I’m more than just quiet

I can be a scream! I can be a riot!

I love to play games, to dance and have fun.

Or sometimes just listen and watch with someone.

I love a good joke; I wish that they knew

I do get the joke; I am laughing too

I try, every day to show I understand

With a smile or a nod or a wave of my hand

I talk with my body, I talk with my eyes

I say ‘yes, me too!’ or ‘what a surprise!’

I wish they could see that it isn’t my choice,

I may not have words but I do have a voice

I hope they won’t ask that question today

I hope that they see me and just want to play