We were born
beating to different drums.
But it was more than that,
you always marched
to the rhythm
of your own song.
Eventually we stopped
trying to march
side-by-side.
We both composed
our own melodies,
unable to distinguish
the beat of one another’s drum.
Until I can only hear
my own harmony and
realize you stopped hitting
your drum all together.
I have no gifts to give,
I can only stand beside you
and beat our old tune
waiting for you to find your rhythm
and begin to beat again.