I might be slow;
I might not dance
The way you’d like.
I might not be your dream;
I might not even cry
When you want me to.
I might be blunt;
Sharp if need be
And even ignore you
When you need me.
But then you ought to ask
Did you dance for me?
Did you smile when I wanted you to?
Or was I to be your puppet,
Was I to be your moppet?
Or maybe this is just me
Projecting me on you.
But then I’m too slow
And you’re too fast for me.

—Linus Fernandes