Serve

Direct or indirect, my heart lives on my sleeve.
So, why must I speak up, bide time & take my leave?

Just in asking, aren’t I clear; where my import lies?
Why are my queries met with tutting & with sighs?

Busy is a fine excuse…overcome by speed.
Still…consistently surprised by the same soul’s need?

Maybe it’s a blindspot & nothing more than that.
Or, maybe weakened skill; meeting folks where they’re at.

After all, the signs are clear; begging you to care.
Soft & hard balls line your court; your turn…if you dare.