a sylph
sparking with fizzy
having no suasion
freckled
with all the wrong verbs
she begins to wonder
is she among the rabble
of untamed strangers
always speaking
with no sound
Friday 5: sylph, rabble, fizzy, suasion, freckled.
Among the rabble
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these are words that I write. enjoy. 
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I get the impression that she's searching for someone to understand her and hear her. She doesn't like how it makes her feel being invisible. That's what I take away from this anyway. I enjoyed reading your short poem. And, I love these lines> she begins to wonder
is she among the rabble
of untamed strangers. Have a nice night.
There's always someone that hears you, just maybe not the person you want to hear you.
I enjoyed this succinct and powerful poem.
absolutely dig the way you responded to michelle's five words... with all the wrong verbs... untamed strangers...
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“The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts.”
Marcus Aurelius (Roman emperor, best known for his Meditations on Stoic philosophy, AD 121-180)