quietly she sits surrounded by the buzzing of  people
the blank paper sitting before her
her mind a storm of ideas yet she is unable to express them
is it the room filled with people?
all of those people making her uneasy
acting as a wall between her mind and that piece of paper
or is it the worry?
the worry of what people will think of her poem
hundreds of words race through her mind yet there are still none on that piece of paper

Quietly she sits surrounded by the buzzing of people
are those whispers about her?
...no they can't be, but what if they are?
is it her outfit, her hair, is is something she did, something she said?
of coarse not, she is just a normal girl
...quiet but normal
but oh how she wishes to be normal
to be free of the constant worries
to no longer endure this fear that is eating her up inside
to no longer be consumed by this plague known as anxiety
to be happy
to be normal