You sometimes hate me,
you sometimes like me,
I don't get it.

You enjoy talking with me,
you enjoy playing with me.

But when it comes for the time to talk about secrecy,
but when it comes to the time to talk about friendship,
you hate me.

You don't tell me,
but you do at that moment.

You stay quiet,
you stay mysterious,
waiting for ME to ask "What's wrong"
waiting for ME to be the bad one in the fight,
which confuses me round and round and round,
until I don't know what I'm arguing about.

I don't get it,
I am stuck,
and I want to know it!
I want to get it!
Can't you explain?

 
I am here, 
I am present,
I am listening.

I know what is going on,
what you want to tell,
but I am here, 
I am present, 
I am listening,
I'm not stupid.

I may look so,
You may think I am so,
but I am not.

I am just avoiding problems,
for if I don't shut my mouth,
and say what I should say,
what I feel,
what I think,
You will explode.

Because the thread was thin,
very thin,
it was about to break,
Until I said no,
I should shut my mouth to avoid problems,.

But I am still here, 
I am still present,
and I am still listening.

I know what you want to tell me so bad,
but you can't tell me until the thread breaks,
until you explode,
just when I say my only left word.

And this isn't something that'll be over,
no,
It will last forever,
And I will remain alone.

I can tell you,
the thread of friendship is thin,
and if I say one more word,
I will remain alone.

Whenever you meet a person you say,
either hello or hi,
and whe you go and leave,
you say see you later or bye.

She was there all right,
I saw her standing,
I had to run,
or I'd die of fright.

She was there,
I saw her,
I'm sure I did,
It is not a dream,
it is not a story,
But I saw her.

Her.

She had a beautiful black dress on,
she stared at me,
she didn't talk,
I knew it wouldn't last long.

But I saw her again,
just not visibly,
she was invisible,
but I saw and heard her,
because she asked me for a pen.

Then she was gone.
Gone forever.
The only time I'd have a chance,
I'd lose it,
because I was too shy to say,
"Stay here, You are my best friend."

(Warning: I am not the narrator of this poem. I am the author of it.) 

This is a poem to show a different point of view a person can have:

There is this girl,
she pretends to be shy,
but when you talk to her personally,
She is such a chatterbox.

She is a showoff,
(at least when I'm there),
and people like her,
how is that fair?

My friends say she is pretty,
funny,
friendly,
nice and more,
I really can't stand it,
They don't give me pity,
and I'm sure that one day they'll Love her,
and Hate me,
and I won't be popular anymore.

I have a plan,
I'm going to take,
all her friends and a piece of cake,
I'll prove to them,
I'll lie if I have to,
that she is not a good friend.

And then I'll have power,
I'll be popular again,
but this living mean creature,
will still be there.

So I have to prepare,
and organize,
that this is not going to happen,
No, no shy, baby-like, chaterbox, showoff , small creature!!!!