His talks go places, far and wide,
Twisting through clouds where thoughts abide.
They leave me puzzled, standing still,
Chasing echoes against my will.
Just realize that I’ve been here,
Since the first tie, since the first cheer.
A journey long, yet unclear still,
A silent climb, a test of will.
I must accept, I must embrace,
That he walks in a different pace.
He speaks with layers, woven deep,
With words that scatter as I sleep.
He holds much wisdom in his tone,
A crown of thoughts he calls his own.
He needs to speak, to set things free,
While I just wish for clarity.
They gather near, they praise his voice,
In every phrase, they find a choice.
They talk like him, they nod, agree—
While I stand lost, invisibly.
Must be strong, I whisper low,
Must be patient, let winds blow.
Once I dreamed of fitting in,
But now I drift, too loud within.
Still… there is him — a silent prayer,
We’ll ask a hug to meet us there.
A shield for soul, for mind, for heart,
To soothe the worlds he tears apart.
Must be strong, I say again,
As rivers rise with hidden rain.
Must be patient, let it pass,
This aching hour will not last.
He doesn’t see the storms I hide,
Nor how I walk the waves inside.
But still I hope, still I believe,
There’s space for me beneath his sleeve.
To be heard, not just endure,
To find a bond steady and pure.
Until then, I hold my ground,
In the silence, in the sound.
There is him — a beacon, dim,
A guide I trust, though I can't swim.
So I wait, arms open wide,
For his hug to stem the tide.
To comfort soul, to quiet mind,
In that moment, peace I’ll find.
