April--Disabled-2017

Pretty Petty’s Poem for the Disabled

Hello Pretty Pets, how are you doing?

Let us introduced ourselves: we’re Amanda, James, Anna, Abdul, Jesselyn, Rick, and Tim; we’re poets. This is a very special issue or version that we’re doing. James, Rick, Tim, and I are disabled or handicapped too. If you want to know more about us, Amanda wrote a very powerful paper about “Being Handicapped”. Just click on this link: http://beinghandicappedessay.blogspot.com. In 2001, Amanda discovered poetry by an accident. I’ll be doing this issue.

This is a long poem. It has my raw feelings about my situation. Enjoy.

My Fortune Teller Says
By-Amanda D. Petty

Twenty-two months old,
Water met my lungs,
Going under,
Dead.
Heaven,
God sat me down.

He told me my future,
“You’ll be handicapped,
You’ll have Spastic Cerebral Palsy and you’ll be in a wheelchair.
People won’t understand you because of your speech,
Your feelings will get hurt easily.”
I questioned,
“Why do I have to have SCP?”
“Because you’re a very special spirit to me.
I will give you a powerful gift of poetry.
People will need you.
Your words will be from Me.”
I smiled, “With this gift, what will I do?”
“Well, you’ll be an international poet,
You’ll have an online poetry business: “Pretty Petty Poetry”.
James Hill, a disabled man, will be your business partner.”
“I know I can handle this.” I said.
With tears He said, “You will have major pain.
Especially, your back and legs.
I’ll send you a Physical Therapist, Doug Shepherd.
He will help you walk.”
“Will I walk again?”
I asked.
“Not on your own because of your brain stem.
I know you don’t understand.
You will.
Trust in Me.”

~*~*~*~

On my Earth time,
SCP, impaired speech, in a power wheelchair.
Mocked, laughed, scoffed, hurt.
Surgeries, pains, my new friends.

God’s elegant creations make me look up:
Moon, stars, sun, clouds, to pray.
My old friends, I talked to them.
Feeling love from Christ,
While I pray.

Moon, I prayed,
“God, why am I here?”
He told my heart,
“Trust in me.”
I looked to the stars,
Questioning what I felt.

Eighteen-year-old, lifetime friends enter:
Stanzas, tones, similes, metaphors,
Many more follow.
Realize not, a pathway of poetry needed me.
Studying, learning, researching, I do nightly.
Hour by hour, writing.
A teacher, Nancy Lowe, pushed my abilities.
I started to change to a different person:
More deeper, more understanding to people’s needs.

Sun, I prayed,
“God, is this my answer?”
He told my soul,
“Trust in me.”
I looked at the blue,
Questioning my feelings.

Twenty-nine, an idea appears,
Six months of not knowing the path.
Christ spoke to my mind, explaining things;
I obeyed with a peaceful heart.
Giving birth to “Pretty Petty Poetry”,
With five issues to make people think.
No passport, no airplane, been all over the world.

Stars, I prayed,
“God, can I get help?”
He told my ears,
“Trust in me.”
I looked at the black sky,
Questioning what I heard.

Thirty-two, stressing out, pushing myself,
Three years of doing “Pretty Petty Poetry”.
Wanting help, needing a partner.
Wondering if I should do a disabled issue,
Asking my facebook friends, my groups.
A guy, James Hill, answered me.
Thinking to myself, “James, my high school, friend?”
Messaging him if I was right.
A warm feeling came as we talked.
A few days of talking about my business.
 Praying to make him a partner.

Clouds, I prayed,
“God, is this my answer?”
He told my spirit,
“Trust in me.”
I looked at the white,
Questioning it.

Changing the site, for James to be a part of it.
Teaching him the styles, English.
Providing him my trust, my friendship.
Giving great ardor by teaching him of his new heart.
Feels like a proud parent watching their child.

Darkness, I prayed,
“Thank you.”
He told my hands,
“Trust in me.”
I looked at the dimness,
Questioning my hands.

While doing “Pretty Petty Poetry,
A very major pain in my right leg enters.
Try everything from:
Drinking pickle juice to leg massage.
Crying sun up to moon up.
Seeing my doctors,
Saying “You’re fine.”
Still, in major pain.

Light, I prayed,
“Why am I in pain?”
He told my body,
‘Trust in me.”
I looked at the grass,
Questioning.

A PT, Doug Shepherd, I saw at church,
I talked to him about this pain.
He came over with paperwork.
Filled them out, my caretaker.
Doug asked me, “Can you walk?”
I wondered.
“Would you like to try?”
“Yes.” I said.
Inside, I’m joyful, zealous.
He got me out,
I’m overwhelmed,
I took my first steps.

I prayed,
He told me,
“Trust in me.”

An Uplifting: We truly want to thank you for reading this. We’re promising, we do know how you truly feel. It will get better, don’t give up. We know some days are bad: physical or emotional or both. On those days, you want to die. We know that firsthand; what help us the most is God. We hope this issue will help you. Just don’t give up. Heavenly Father knows your pains; maybe that’s why we’re here, giving you strength for a new hour. We have a song for you; My friend, we really do know how you feel.







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