She was there,
But not really.
Always thinking of scenarios,
Almost daydreaming.
And no one seemed to mind her,
Not caring really,
And she didn’t mind them,
Enjoying the lonely feeling.
Yet there she was,
Thinking of things to say,
Because in all actuality
She didn’t want her friendships to decay.
So, if even for a moment,
If she had a chance to speak,
She took it, holding her shyness in
And letting her voice free.
Sometimes it didn’t work,
No was was able to hear,
Her voice was too small,
Compared to theirs.
Yet she smiles anyway,
Knowing that she tried,
But for the rest for the conversation…
I think her voice has died.