Should I be afraid,
To compliment those around me?
I shouldn't,
But yet I am.
It's a relief to tell others a truth,
One that brings about a smile.
Yet I feel I have to restrain myself,
Our of fear for being taken wrong.
There's no color quite like,
The gentle smile of another's face,
Or the subtle twinkle in someone's eye.
I wish nothing more than to bring it.
Yet fear dictates who I am.
It makes me question if I am true,
And if I really do bring color.
Perhaps I exaggerate the truth.
Am I the good guy or the bad guy?
It shouldn't be hard to see,
Yet here I am questioning my alignment.
All because of difficulty to compliment.
Why do I feel held back?
Why do I feel so minuscule?
Why do I feel so insignificant?
Why do I feel alone in company?
I suppose I'll just wait,
But for now, I'll look away.
I'll smile at what makes me smile,
As the rose still yet dies to heat.
Even though the clouds still spell rain.
