From the first time we ever met,
you immediately realize why,
my friends call me an old soul.
Living in a by-gone era,
stubborn to a fault,
set in my own ways.
predictable in my actions,
even more so, in my routines,
especially, my ethics and values.
From all that I do,
creating daily to-do lists,
planning schedules ahead,
setting goals to accomplish,
creating detailed itineraries;
taking calculated risks and
enjoying life’s simple activities.
My obsession for organization,
keeps my both head and mind,
balanced and sane,
with the exception of
not making my bed every morning.
I have my ways,
I have my routines,
I have my preferences,
but for whatever the reason,
you think yours is the only way.
When it came to how I do things,
or even behaving to set norms,
typical for my actual age.
whether sports, hobbies,
shared interests or events.
a simple conversation,
becomes complicated,
when I just never
seemed to fit
any cliques.
Early on,
I was taught
give it your all,
in all that you do,
or don’t do it at all.
I try,
I try hard,
I try harder,
but no matter
how much I do,
I never thought,
I was I ever,
good enough.
In many instances,
I found myself
becoming
nothing
but less than at times
an only lonely
seeking most
my leisure and hobbies in activities,
where it was
me, alone,
or at the very most
only with
one other.
Exhausted and stressed,
I felt as if I never belonged,
I always worked harder,
to get what
I earned,
yet,
somehow,
I made it,
by
always
making it,
look easy.
I seemed to be,
the square peg,
trying so hard to fit it into
the round hole.
I never fit your mold,
but I shaped my own
and in that shape,
I found my missing piece.
I found my inner peace,
in my perpetual state of
my own madness.
I didn’t fit, not because
I wasn’t meant to be
I wasn’t broken,
I was just different.
Despite being tenacious,
I remained resilient,
Failure was not an option.
Success was found,
in my very own way,
at my very own pace
and in my own time.
