Ive broken my foot and I’ve just become small
They don’t seem to make a wheelchair that’s tall
You no longer talk to me you just stare or watch
Well that’s okay I’d just talk to your crotch
Pavement  cut outs and slopes are my saviour
Steps ,stairs and escalators do me no favours
In shops I can t reach all the stuff on the top
And the bottoms no better I can’t reach my pop
Well that doesn’t matter I don’t have a bag
I ‘m wheeling myself and my hands need to grab
At the wheels by my side which are so hard to push
I struggle along you’re all in a rush
Right past me at speed you get on with your day
Someone like me just gets in your way
I can’t shop or cook so I’ll go and eat out
As I wheel to the restaurants I’m left in no doubt
That menus displayed are not meant for me
They’re up way too high in a place I can’t see
Well that’s all ok I’m not hungry today
I feel quite odd and I’ve lost my way
In your big busy world I feel so small
Why don’t they make a wheelchair that’s tall ?
A temporary challenge is all that I face,
but how must it be for those in this permanent place ?

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