'She was mentally disabled, ' they said,
And they said ‘but she was sweet.’
And if heaven passed a million souls
It would still wrap slippers around her feet.
For her heart was vast and wholly unkempt
By a certain part of the brain,
That tells us to love so aimlessly
Is embarrassing, even insane.
So she put more love in her thirty six years
Than most in eighty years are able;
Yet most won’t give a passing thought
To how Sarah Murphy was labeled…
For though it’s true she was,
When compared to us all
Wasn’t she less disabled?
Matt Johnston
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sarah-murphy/
