Dislexia

I have a very strange disorder,
It makes the letters and numbers in a jumpeled order.
It messes them up inside my head,
making them a different way to what i read.

At primerary school I couldn't spell,
In maths I never did so well.
The teachers never seemed to care,
No one sensed my growing fear.

I'm in high school now,
People allways wonder how.
They tease me and call me dumb,
The thought of them makes me numb.

They don't know how hard it is,
To catch up on all the things my brain missed.
They can never understand the confusion I feel,
They make m life seem unreal.

I use my disorder as a gift,
Sometimes my hopes it lifts.
I look at things in strange ways,
Beat them out even on their *good* days.

As soon as I think its gone,
It hits me back, never gone for long.
But it has sort of grown on me,
Now its part of my personality.