With a longing to be noticed,
She stood on the outskirts of the crowd,
A longing to fit in, she listened to the joyous banter,
Of the lady with the Auburn hair,
Who, surrounded by many others,
They flocked around her like seagulls,
Oh how lovely to be her!
So confident, so many words to say.
But she was the the lonely introvert,
Displaying her flare, through her poetry skills,
Where words flowed easy,
Her confidence flourished like a rush of the wind,
Away from the prying eye.
Her comfort zone,
With expression of thoughts, she gained her confidence and self control.
Released in her poems,
She became the extrovert with words,
When being alone.
Jayne Louise Davies
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i am she
Your not on your own LeeAnn x