The Academy Tales - Monica

Seemingly lost in a world of her own,

She appears content daydreaming alone.

What goes on in her head, I dare to ask,

But her smile gleams too bright to unmask.

 

Preconceived notions tell she is distant.

Her mind aloof, yet, that is persistent.

No sense of time or urgency is shown

When missing a deadline of that unknown.

 

The absence of effort, indeed, a curse.

You’ll find her lost energy within each verse.

Her time management needs an upgrade, yes.

Her focus, however, is sure to impress.

 

The glare of her glasses makes for a shield

Social contact deterred by the clear force field.

Examine her stature; you’ll see she’s small.

Study further; you’ll see her voice stands tall.

 

Her voice is her weapon and that I fear.

Sharp intonation digs deep in the ear.

Consonants and vowels make up for her lack

Of poise in her mind and a spine in her back.

 

She speaks aloud when her thoughts are aligned,

But you hear her most when her words are assigned.

Her absent mind is easily controlled,

But somewhere in there she is big and she is bold.

This poem is about: 
Me

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