They race ahead with laughter loud,
Their faces turned toward sun and cloud,
While I remain, a quieter kind—
Always the one they leave behind.
Their hands let go, too quick, too soon,
Their footprints fading past the dune.
I call, but silence answers blind—
Always the one they leave behind.
The echoes know me all too well,
The stories I don’t dare to tell.
I watch them chase what they might find,
Always the one they leave behind.
But still I walk, though slow and far,
I map my path by a different star.
Not every soul is meant to wind
With crowds—they’re not the only kind.
So let them run. I’ll take my time.
The quiet hills, the climb, the climb.
And if I’m last, I will not mind—
Some hearts are meant to stay behind.
Thank-you for reading.
Remember there are many paths back to God.
Follow your own path,
Brenda Marie
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This poem is a poignant reflection on solitude and self-acceptance, wrapped in aching beauty. The repetition of *”Always the one they leave behind”* stings with loneliness, yet the shift in the final stanzas transforms resignation into quiet triumph. The speaker’s resolve to *”map my path by a different star”* and embrace their own pace turns exclusion into intentional solitude. The closing lines—*”Some hearts are meant to stay behind”*—feel like a soft rebellion, a reclamation of being overlooked. It’s a hymn for the slow, the gentle, the unchosen, finding strength in their own rhythm. Gorgeously bittersweet. Beautiful poem Brenda 🌷🤝