The Wallflower

Standing in a dark corner,
the wallflower melted into the paint.
As the party grew in intensity,
her discomfort grew stronger.

I noticed when she moved to the snacks.
I think she felt invisible as the partiers danced.
She had only temporary confidence.
After leaving the table, she melted again.

I wanted to talk to her that night.
My respect for her fears kept me away.
I remembered her when I saw her the next day.
She looked away bashfully when I smiled.

W. Wayne B.

© 2012 W. Wayne B.

Other creations

About William Wayne Smith

I'm a poet, library fan and maker.
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