I feel awkward and shy, all alone in a crowd.
Never know what to say, I could curl up and die.
Am I rambling on? Too withdrawn or too loud?
But the people who know me can’t understand why,
When I swagger onstage on a confidence high,
And perform unafraid to a liquored up crowd
I think some of them think it’s a little white lie:
“I feel awkward and shy, all alone in a crowd.”
But the rhythms and rhymes put me up on a cloud:
When performing a poem I think I can fly.
But I come back to earth all embarrassed and cowed.
Never know what to say, I could curl up and die.
When my confident friends see me struggle they try
To convince me that I can be cool and unbowed
But they cannot get through as I stutter and sigh
Am I rambling on? Too withdrawn or too loud?
Is it low self esteem, or am I far too proud?
For this social anxiety’s really a cry
“Please accept me! Please tell me if I am allowed!”
But the people who know me can’t understand why.
But the end of this rondeau redoublé is nigh
So please try to remember what I have avowed:
When I’m up here I find it as easy as pie
But the fear when I leave’s like a smothering shroud:
I feel awkward and shy.
Tom Juniper Poetry 