A Place At The Table

In crowded rooms,I walk unseen,

A shadow drifting through the light,

My words dissolve,

my hopes convene

With silent prayers cast to the night.

I watch the laughter circle round,

A dance of voices, warm and free

Yet on the edges, I am bound,

A distant echo, lost at sea.

I wear my stories like a cloak,

Each thread a wish,

each seam a plea,

But every time I try to speak,

The world grows quieter to me.

I long for eyes that truly see,

For hands that welcome mine in trust,

For hearts that open honestly,

And kindness given, not from lust.

To be a note within the song,

Not just a whisper on the breeze

To feel, at last, that I belong

Without the need to bend or please.

Acceptance, gentle as the dawn,

You haunt my dreams and waking hours;

You’re in the hush before the yawn,

The hope that grows in fragile flowers.

I’ve worn a thousand different masks,

Each one designed to fit the mold

I’ve answered every question asked,

Yet still, I linger in the cold.

What is the shape of being known?

Is it a smile that meets my own,

A voice that calls me on the phone,

Or simply not to feel alone?

I yearn for laughter shared with ease,

For comfort in my trembling skin,

For judgment’s icy hand to cease,

And let acceptance bloom within.

Perhaps it starts with gentle grace,

A kindness offered to myself

To find in every mirrored face A friend,

not just a shadowed self.

And as I learn to stand my ground,

To claim my space and speak my truth,

May acceptance in my heart be found,

And in that gift, discover youth.

For longing shapes us,

makes us wise,

It teaches patience, hope, and care

And when acceptance lights our eyes,

We find our place, we breathe the air.

So let me walk with open hands,

And welcome others to my side

For in acceptance, love expands,

And longing’s ache is satisfied.