Writerly Wednesday: No one knows

 



No one knows 

when the introvert, 

the quiet one, 

the one who stayed 

on the periphery, 

the one no one 

could hear,

the one who hide within

the babble of voices, 

shimmied out of 

her shell. 


No one knows

the one who always 

listened,

at ease 

with her place in 

the well 

of shadows, and thoughts

swimming 

through her brain.


No one knows

the introvert, the quiet one,

who found a place to be, 

to rest, to live, 

to dream.


The introvert, the quiet one, 

lived among the rest,

content 

with those  

who lived externally. 


No one knows 

what came between

except she found 

her voice.

And burst, 

quietly of course, 

and reached 

politely, of course,

between 

the lines, 

On to the scene,

And took her place 

in the light. 

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