The Introvert

A quiet world of constant sound, Thoughts drift on for miles. A single place where she can be found, And mysteriously, she smiles Silent pathways of days and years A touch, and waves of sensation. The world wonders at silent tears, Nothing, with such emotion. Penciled words on moonlit leafs A vibrant hand emotes A crystal view of muddled thoughts, That the mind of the creator dotes. People pass this little wallflower Silent her garden grows Of thoughts and words, endless power And only when one seeks, is shown.