The town was very busy,
Youngsters gathered in the street.
They didn't moderate their language,
It was just a place to meet.
They laughed and shouted, and ran about,
While shoppers felt annoyed.
They pushed and jostled one another,
The girls, as bad as the boys.
They mocked a girl in a wheelchair,
Her disability, quite apparent.
They verbally threw abuse at her,
Their behaviour, extremely abhorrent.
When challenged by a passing man,
They said, "We don't give a toss…
She's only a bloody cripple;
…she's no f—king loss".
The man stood his ground with the troublesome lad,
Til the youth rejoined his mob.
Still shouting obscenities at all around,
Confirming he was just a yob.
The hero turned to the girl in the chair,
And said to the lady, who was pushing her around,
"Is she alright?..She's not hurt, I hope…
she looks like she's found a penny, but lost a pound".
The girl became suddenly offended,
Not by the yobs, but by the mans air.
"I'm a person you know, not a vegetable…
even though I'm confined to this chair."
When she's being pushed, amid a crowd,
Her face is only waist high.
Yet people talk above her head,
Instead of bending, to look in her eyes.
It's bad enough, being unable to walk,
Without being treated as a complete misfit.
Being strapped into the invalid chair,
Searching for a comfortable way to sit.
So, if you see someone that's disabled,
Talk to them, at their face height.
Just stoop a little, to bring you down,
To that persons line of sight.