Poem: My Move

I know I am late.

My time has always been different than yours.

I walk to my own beat.

Yet you march to mine.

We try to meet, but that only makes me weak.

I want to move as one, but I do not think so.

It is just not an easy task to make.

I like the silence that lives in my words, more than when they are with yours.

I think it might be time for us to catch up.