I walk alone.
I am lonely.
They do not see me,
not for who I am.
I am different,
to them, hard to understand.
My head isn’t held high,
I watch the ground.
They pay me no attention,
nor I them.
I have my friends,
yet I feel distant,
either me two steps behind
or they two steps ahead.
I walk too slowly.
Sometimes too fast.
It is a lonely walk,
but one I like.
They can’t see me clearly,
but I see them just fine.
Their judgments are simple whispers,
their true colors are shouts.
I walk alone.
I am lucky.
Those that truly see me,
they understand
because they are like me.
We are unique.
We find each other,
we have friends.
We walk together,
always slightly apart
to more clearly see
the colors
in the sea of people.
For we are all different,
but we all share the Walk.
The Lonely Walk.
Everyone,
once upon a time
had this walk.
It disappeared over time,
one second there
the next second gone.
But I will always
have this walk,
for it is part of me.
I love my walk.
My Lonely Walk.