This poem is about my dear friend Harry, who has Down syndrome. I've known Harry for nine years; we met in kindergarten. I didn't know he had Down syndrome at the time, I just knew he was my friend. When he talks, it is very hard to understand him. I am one of the few people who is fortunate enough to be able to understand him. That along with our friendship is a known fact at my school. And on multiple occasions, I'm with Harry when he starts talking to another student or even a teacher. The person he's talking to can't understand him, so they ask me, "What did he say?" Sometimes I tell them, other times I respond with, "He's right here. Ask him yourself!" It's frustrating for both me and Harry. Harry doesn't get the respect he deserves and I hope this poem can make other "Harrys" in the world get their deserved respect.