𝑽𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒐

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In crowded rooms, a silent dance I weave,

In silent symphonies, a social grieve,

The symphony of small talk, a daunting tune,

Navigating the spaces like a distant new moon

Silent echoes of a wary glance,

a timeless waltz within the depths of a

trance 

Like social seas and stormy tempests

In my mind,

A tango of nerves, a subtle bind.

Averse to gazes, hesitant steps,

A delicate quickstep where fear intercepts.

My scripted dialogue, uncertain lines,

In the theatre of connection, a hesitant mime.

Who am I without the muted song

playing inside my head? 

             Am I simply the grains of sand?

Or the quiet orchestra band? 

Do soft winds visit my despair?

             Do voices exist everywhere?

Yet in the dance of discomfort,

A quiet strength emerges, dazing the anxious mind.

And a resilient spirit awakens —

my anxious heart sails

In a new chapter, my strength prevails

Facing the whirls that speak and rhyme...

Crowded Rooms

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