I Cannot Step The Waltz (Isolation Lament) Poem by James Stovall

I'm a loser,
I'm a failure,
I stand not up to measure,
I wish I could step the Tennessee Waltz.

But that takes two,
I've never felt that, always blue,
Reborn as one made new,
In sweet love that never halts.

I feel less than human,
A Godforsaken Cuman
In every Sunday reunion,
Seeing precious babes — of those who could waltz.

While I smile at my brothers
And cast a word to countless others,
my heart still sharply mutters,
'I can never step right the waltz'

I smile, a wicked sigh,
it does not reach my eye,
But it is just my old lie,
I cannot step the waltz.

As one mother,
Bakes another
Loaf of bread, the wife o' her brother,
Laughs as they talk up the waltz.

As the children
Play in the garden,
My heart starts to harden,
With tears as they crystalize want.

I'm feeling very,
Very heavy,
Tears are welling without a levee,
I'm broken on familiar rocks.

I fear a lonely token,
Yet at same wish it left unbroken,
For my time lies worthless, open,
Not worthy of those who can waltz.

My feet always stumble,
My words stutter a mumble,
As my façade does crumble,
only I was fooled by it — I cannot waltz.

How I pray for a change
From God, to whom I am page,
To be made more the same
As those who, effortless, waltz.

Yet I'm waiting,
Yes I'm breaking,
While nothing is changing,
And every effort just halts.

Where is my friend?
Where is the end?
Where does sorrow and relief blend?
Where even I could step a hearty waltz.

I'm a loser,
I'm a failure,
I stand not up to measure,
I wish I could step the Tennessee Waltz.