In a classroom of extroverts,
A classroom full of loud, brazen, outspoken thinkers,
There was a quiet girl in the class,
Keeping to herself.
She didn’t talk much, as she was quite shy,
But people assumed she was either a snob or quite stupid,
And kept away from her,
Hardly noticing her as she took her notes in the class.
She wasn’t particularly intelligent, but she worked hard,
Copying the notes from the board and absorbing the information;
However, something she particularly enjoyed
Was watching her classmates as they interacted.
She wished she could be as social as them,
As outspoken and as friendly as them,
But it wasn’t in her nature
To speak before being spoken to.
The last day of class arrived,
And tears were shed as her classmates
Said goodbye to their other classmates,
But none said goodbye to her.
She realized that there was nothing wrong with being quiet,
Since she had her own group of friends
That loved her for what she said,
Rather than for what she didn’t say.
As the girl exited the classroom,
She didn’t feel as sad as she could have,
Since she thought of herself as a gust of wind: invisible,
But carrying away the secrets of all of her classmates.