Ever felt like a swordfish in the forest? (Poem)

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I'm 49 years old and just recently discovered I have Asperger's (diagnosis pending). When I look at poems I wrote in the past, I find a lot that almost spell it out, most of all this one which I composed 11 years ago:

Xiphias sylvanus

He was a swordfish who lived in the wood -
he couldn't sing or hunt mice
or do anything that the others could,
but with his long snout he could slice
the others' portions; each evening they stood
around him and shared which was nice.

And oft he would talk of this magical place
where he just like all others could be,
and where he'd be moving with ease and with grace
in his element, cheerful and free;
the others would sneer, or they'd tell him to face
the stern reality.

And oft he would stand on the cliffs at the shore,
and he'd watch the wide ocean and pause,
but his sylvan friends would know the score
and hold him back with their claws:
'Don't jump! There's so much worth living for',
but they'd never reveal what it was.

(© Frank L. Ludwig, from my collection "Away and Back" at http://franklludwig.com/away.html)

Love it. I took a peek at your website, and find your writing style very appealing.

Thanks, glad you like it.

When I read the thread title I was expecting to read complete and utter garbage.

As it turns out, I actually quite enjoyed it! It was interesting.

*edit* I checked out your website, you really have talent! Your stuff is great!!

Thanks very much!