An Awkward Child
A mother's hand trembles
as she brushes a tear from her eyes;
while watching her awkward child
standing all alone, forgotten.
As others, in their budding self-awareness,
catch glimpses as they run by, playing
at their games and life.
They were too young, perhaps,
to appreciate that difference will
often foretell brilliance, that genius
sometimes hides behind
shyness, and strength within
softly stammered words.
Instead, we often feel we must march
to the same annoying drum beat,
speak the same exhausted phrases,
and think only empty thoughts
to feel connected. While left alone,
the one who's different
finds contentment in tending
a garden of his dreams.
Perhaps he should have come to this
life a little later, when humanity
might have learned acceptance
of those unlike themselves, and
tolerance for minds greater than
their own.
But, for now, there'll be derision
as insecurity outruns compassion
in the human race. Yet, as sometimes
happens, the awkward one, rejected as
a playmate, is now extolled by many
critics for his masterpieces.
And we gaze in wonder at the loveliness
of the unique.
Copyright © Ann Peck | Year Posted 2021
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