They call me a bit of a wallflower;
In my mind I build towers-
They scrape the surface of my earthly existence-
And at the parties I attend their meanings diminish.
I walk round the back near the drinks and the coasters-
No one would notice this internal roller coaster-
No one would see what was towering beneath-
And I don’t dare un-sheath the sword of misery.
I see people go through hallways, pass by-
Seeing each other, moment to moment company-
Not knowing why;
And I sit by the bench near the flowers on the wall,
And laugh at them all.
They might think things of me that I do not like-
Say things behind my back, turn away in fright.
So I sit next to the wall covered with wallpaper flowers;
And hold my coaster and drink for hours.
Some may ask the reason why my engagement seems poor-
I could say it in a few words or more, but I shall this is why-
All I look for to my questions is a candid reply-
And that is what some people cannot supply.