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The Perks of Being a Wallflower

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When I was eight
carrying chalk and slate
sitting in the corner alone I ate
It's not, I thought, making friends wasn't great
There was something within I couldn't break

While my other classmates played around
I kept mum and made no sound
Something interesting in their stories I found
Sera, mimicking her angry mother, her face frowned
Bella, sailing her paper boat in nearby pound

One day, irresistibly, I broke into a laughter
The entire class looked at me as a disaster
A few befriended me, shared their deepest secrets and banter
There's something which makes happy and empowered
The Perk of Being a Wallflower

This poem is written as a part of National Poetry Writing Month in an association with APM Nation.

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