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 I am the mother of an autistic superhero,

I shine his symbol against a dark wall.

He’ll never walk, they said.

He’ll never talk, they said.

You’re wrong, I said.

They gauged his smallness.

I nurtured his growth.

He defied diagnosis and finally spoke,

I am Batman, don’t you see?

Spiderman, Superman he ran with all three.

I smothered his kryptonite.

Ignited his sparks.

Silenced the cynics who made those remarks.

I was right, I said. You just couldn’t see.

My boy can fly. When you just let him be.

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