By Paul E. Schindler, Jr.
I think that each and every day
You don’t have a lot to say.
I, however, speak each thought,
Whether you could care or not.
You just do what you will do
Sharing’s not a thing for you.
Most thoughts passing through your head,
Move in and out with nothing said.
You’re a trickle, I’m a torrent.
I’m afraid there’s nothing for it,
Though you think it quite abhorrent,
That’s just not enough deterrent.
You often say, “You’re good enough,”
And I hear you, but it’s tough,
For me, accepting status quo:
Better I could be, I know.
I’d like to live to see the day
When I have less than you to say.
I won’t be binary or weird,
As these are things I know you feared.
On that day, I think you’ll find,
That some thoughts will pass my mind,
Without being said out loud,
I know that would make me proud.
Best of all, without a doubt,
I won’t even point it out.
I won’t expect your thanks, you see,
As I mark my victory.