by Alan Balter
At the hospital on the day of my birth
I’m told I looked strange for what it’s worth
Doc didn’t whack my rump like he did to others
Nope, I looked so funny he slapped my mother
So yeah, I wasn’t a handsome guy
Mom said my face could make onions cry
Dad took me to the zoo, and a girl made a crack
“How nice of that man to bring the monkey back”
Once I got sick with the Asian flu
I needed some medicine like other kids do
The doctor was hardly a humanitarian
When he suggested I visit a veterinarian
Being quite truthful; indeed brutally frank
They turn off the camera when I go to a bank
The first time I visited a psychiatrist—Ouch!
She insisted I lie face down on the couch
But, I made it to college and earned a bachelor’s degree
Then completed a Master’s and Ph.D
I’m the owner and president of a large company
Where lots of good looking people work for me
So if you don’t like the image you see in your mirror
Here’s a message that couldn’t be any clearer
Don’t worry young people; just hit the books
‘Cause what you know gets you further than how you look.
About the Author
Alan Balter was born May 25th, 1939 in Chicago. He worked as a teacher for children with special needs before becoming a professor in the Special Education Department at Chicago State University. There, he prepared teachers for children and adolescents with learning disabilities and developmental delays. Along with Poetry for my Grandchildren and Everyone Else’s, his other publications include: Divided Apple: A Story about Teaching in Chicago, Learning Disabilities: a Book for Parents, and two novels entitled Birds of a Feather and Holden and Me.