The Games That We Play, the Tricks of the Trade

By Jim Abbott

This poem's dedicated to people who stutter
But try to hide the fact that they do
So they avoid situations
And substitute words
Afraid some folks will think them a fool
You spend your days
Dreaming up ways
To hide your stuttering shame
Substituting does work
But doesn't fear always lurk
When you run out of other words to say?
You must rack your brains
All night & all day
Running from what you so detest
You go to such length
To hide how you speak
Doesn't your gray matter deserve a little rest?
Avoidance works well
You just crawl in a shell
You can hide for a little while at least
But what happens when
You get trapped, what then
Are you ready to face that stuttering beast?
At some point in time
You must finally decide
To admit to the cold, hard facts
You stutter it's true
But 3 million others do to
And your gimmicks & tricks are just that
So drop the charade
And lower your facade
Do you really think people are fooled?
It's not who you are
It's not what you are
Stuttering is just something you do
So look em square in the eye
You might be surprised
Your listener wont scream & run away
Give it a try
And I believe that you'll find
That if you stutter
Guess what?
IT'S OKAY