The Disease of Lefthandism
In a world where right hands rule the way,
Lefthandism is a high price to pay.
A flaw, a curse, a disability to hide,
Being left-handed is wrong-handed, they decide.
Permission slips required to use her hand,
Signed approval by parents, the school demands.
Without consent, she must conform,
To fit the mold of a right-handed norm.
“To cure her flaw,” they firmly say,
“She’ll learn to be right-handed someday.”
Struggling to conform, her peers accuse,
“She just wants attention!”—hurtful views.
The scissors bite, the tools betray,
Her left hand stifled every day.
Her teacher sighs, redirects her grip,
A right-hand world allows no slip.
Held back, “She’s slow,” they coldly claim,
While deep inside, she feels the shame.
Her hands, her brain, designed unique,
Yet freedom’s path remains oblique.
Why must the world deny what’s true?
Different brains hold value too.
No flaw to cure, no wrong to right,
A left-hand life without the fight!
WoPoLi 
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