Shy

They observe it just for laughs:
How I shun handshakes like lances.
There’s something in the way I act,
Dodging crowds and dodging glances.
It’s the walking into things,
The never-present stare;
Hoping they won’t notice me.
Hoping they won’t see me there.

They observe it just for kicks,
That I’m always somewhat absent.
I hope that they don’t see
Just where it was my mind went;
For while they go about watching me,
I’m observing them:
Trying to find why it’s so hard
For me and not for them.