by Tanzim Parvez
Into a crowded room; draw my breath in
Lower head. Lift. Dart my eyes to and fro
If only the people here were my kin
I’d not feel a desperate need to go
Speaking to people is n’er appealing
Those not so harmless words: “How are you dear?”
One could never imagine the feeling
Just how those words fill me with utter fear
What could help overcome this awful dread?
What can help me free myself of this wrap?
So my thoughts and voice they would hear instead
Speaking, perhaps, would free me from this trap
Who knows, if then, they may know what is real
They’d hear the thoughts I have; the things I feel
Blue Granite Review 