A sea of backs

Tell us about a time when you felt out of place.

A skill I’ve never mastered

Is entering a room

All those people’s backs to me

What am I to do?

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I don’t know how to join a group.

I enter slowly in

I stop at the edge of a random group

And fiddle with my drink.

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No one seems to notice me.

How do I join in?

I wish the floor would swallow me

I struggle with the din.

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I don’t know who these people are.

I’m not sure that I care.

I simply wish I wasn’t there

That I could disappear.

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The circle doesn’t separate.

I hover by their backs.

Pretend like I am listening.

Then seek another drink.

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I’ll go back through the process

Try another group.

If by chance they let me in.

I won’t have much to say.

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I’m not a natural sharer.

Why’d you need to know?

Some can just talk endlessly

But I’m not one of those.

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They won’t find me interesting

I’ve not got much to say.

At least I’ve got a place to stand

Until they drift away.

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Of course there is the toilet.

I can take refuge there.

Anything to get away

And spend time on my own.

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In a formal setting

I will have no nerves

However large the waiting crowd

I will know no fear.

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But make me enter in a room

And face that sea of backs.

That’s a thing I simply dread.

I feel so out of place.