This is an odd poem really. I started out listening to the theme of Deoxys, a DNA Pokemon and pondering on how something could be so powerful to actually alter DNA itself, which blossomed out into a more philosophical take on the idea of a sculptor of DNA, away from the fact he has the power to do so, but more rather the ability.

I dunno about if this poem works and I worry about the last lines being taken in the wrong way, so just in case they do let me say this.
I am half deaf. I was born with a twisted stomach that hounds me for all my life. I have Asperger's Syndrome.
I feel lucky to be able to walk or have both arms or at least have a mind working at nearly fully functioning capacity. I do not pity nor do I dislike those with physical or mental disabilities, for I am in some way in the same boat as them, but not as worse as some.

Just in case any one of you start thinking I'm doing a Glenn Hoddle.