My girl, Autism and Minecraft.

A landscape of blocks,
A place with no friends,
A world of her choosing,
With no beginning or end.

A place she can go,
A world of her own,
To build her imagination,
Wonder around all alone.

No one to please,
No list of rules,
Building her sculptures,
Using all kinds of tools.

You can build and knock down,
You can build it again,
Her love of repitition,
Fulfilled by her craftsmen.

Its real, but its not,
She can be in control,          
Everything is her choice,
She can make her own goals.

You can build what you want,
Whatever you are into,
Your obsession is welcome here,
You can choose what you do.

A place to spawn animals,
A place to call home,
A place to trap bad guys,
Make a prison from stone.

The gameplay is endless,
My girl is obsessed,
She wakes up to see creepers,
Its switched on before she is dressed.

The game is called Minecraft,
The world is all hers.
I see the story unfolding,
I see the choices she prefers.

A window into her mind,
A side I don’t normally see,
My girl and her Minecraft,
A world where she is free.



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