julianne

In my shyness . . . At times I retreat to my "shell," Clinging to the security of being alone.In my shyness . . . I may attempt to merge with my surroundings-- To be ignored, unnoticed, a silent voice rarely heard.In my shyness . . . I can feel completely alone, Although surrounded by people.In my shyness . . . I'm perceived as having a padlocked soul-- And few try to gain entry into my realm.In my shyness . . . Few will dare venture to really know me-- To hear my quiet voice or to really try to understand.In my shyness . . . I can have a myriad of words to say, Yet, my sealed lips will not release them.In my shyness . . . The words I do speak will at times be jumbled, And I'll feel worse for having spoken them.In my shyness . . . I will be viewed as "stuck up" and unfriendly, Labeled by the presumption of a troubled past.Yet, despite my shyness . . . I will at times emerge from my "shell," And you may catch a glimpse of who I am.And despite my shyness . . . I may put on a good "front," Disguising my innermost insecurities.Despite my shyness . . . A select few will manage to penetrate these "walls," With the sharing of time and the evolving of trust.My shyness . . . Frequently unrecognized, seldom understood-- A shackle, a haven, a veil.