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.