Jennifer D'Andrea Poet I do not know?

Pace

Everyone moves at their own pace
face-to-facing on their way,
but no one watches where they're going
to-and-froing everyday.

There's one trudging along,
there's one skipping a beat,
one who's singing a song,
one looking down at their feet.

Here come the weary: they've had enough.
Here come the ruined: life was too rough.
Here come the hearty: strutting their stuff.
Here comes the dreamer: oh so off-the-cuff.

Everyone moves at their own place 
but no one watches where their going.
Everyone puts on their own face
though who can tell which one is showing?

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