Sometimes I am not sure what I think.
I cannot always understand what is said
I come with holes in my sock but no-one can see
I praise in the way I know how, not according to any rules
I speak, but my communication is often not verbal
I come with holes in my sock but you do not care
I may sit when others stand, not out of disobedience, out of acceptance
But I also stand, in strength and in unison, when I am needed.
Here I have time to let go, to release, to acknowledge, to accept, to trust, to change, to grow
I am not going to pretend I know everyone, or even see eye to eye with the person I may be standing next to,
But I will turn and I will walk along side them for this time for these differences are menial. These differences are menial
I confess I do not like drinking tea, making idle chit chat that extends no further than the bottom of my empty cup, but I try,
How are you, who are you, how was your week, how are you,
and from one week to the next the tea becomes tepid but for the idle chit chat.
I come with holes, but here I can remove my shoe.