The Quiet Girl in the Corner

See that small child, sitting alone?
Her head bent, her body slumped, her hands clutching a book?
Seemingly friendless in that crowded classroom,
alone in that corner she quietly sits.
But where is the sorrow, where is the pain
of the solitude that should impress itself on her?
Where is the frown, where are the tears
that so often consume society’s rejected?
Instead, there is a blissful smile, a laugh bubbling upon her lips,
arising from within, her soul’s quiet happy peace.

What cares she for fickle friends,
when so near at hand others are better?
The dashing knight, the noble lady,
abound in loyalty without fetter.
Carefree child, mischievous sprite,
animated animal, capering elf,
all contribute to her delight.

If the quiet truly rankles,
quite easily can she make amends!
The trees’ tentative whispers are for her only,
and when the beautiful birdsong ends,
‘tis only to wait for her reply.
And from her beloved books
to her wishes her character friends happily comply.

See that small child, sitting alone?
She really isn’t…
Companions dear she finds in books,
and her imagination supplies the rest.
So let them laugh, let them ignore,
they cannot truly her offend.
Firm, unwavering, she knows herself,
more than the socialites with the hollow laughs know their own hearts.
And that is why she is content to sit in the corner;
she sees herself truly, and she likes what she sees.


*But when the years have taken their toll,
and people too have worn her down,
her self-assurance away does roll,
and she becomes just another face ‘round town.
Her courage and individuality
slip away like mist,
fortitude now no part of her personality.
Her vivid imagination away was kis’t.
No longer content to be who she was,
she changed for those who never really cared.

Oh why oh why must children grow up?