Lunchtime

Part 3: Social Anxiety

Lunchtime

This was the worst time of day,

A moment when fear would arise,

And a teacher would say:

"Go Ryan, go! Go out and play!

Come on hon, I'll show you the way."

I think it was Wednesdays and Thursdays,

That I would stomp my feet.

Mondays and Fridays,

The days I would scream.

On Tuesdays, I'd cry,

My tears bearing worry.

And always after lunchtime,

My confidence was buried.

From Millburn to Winston,

To even my Hudson beginnings,

My nerves would accumulate,

The world was spinning.

I was a cynic,

Unmovable in my doubt

That I'd ever have friends,

Or something to feel good about.

From Lopes to Cruz,
To Erica and Greg.

Then Christmann to Baker,

All trying to fix my head.

I'd pick up my phone, calling my mom.

Always, she would say, "Ryan, stay calm."

But I couldn't do so, frowning my brows,

My concern at its peak, hating the now.

Eventually...one day...sometime soon...

Is what I would always think.

Hoping for the morrow,

Praying for better relations,

Eager to abandon my sorrow.