To the one who limps, who is a poor dancer,
who hesitates at the escalator,
who smacks their elbow on doorjambs: Praise.
To you who never get the jokes,
who have failed at love, who feel odd in every group,
to you who hate to introduce yourself, be honor and glory.
You who have dropped the whole casserole of your life
splat on the floor, who believe you have nothing to say,
whose handshake is limp as old celery, blessed are you.
Losers and misfits and three-legged dogs, praised be you
who try anyway, for you have the courage to be
what we fear, and free of shine or polish, gleam
with the radiance of the One whose glory is not divided,
making us brave to attempt that most holy and amazing feat:
to be ourselves.
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