An Untitled Drama

I cry inside for
help to anyone
who will hear me
but I'm always happy.


I yell out to
anyone who's present
but I am
always quiet.


Someone once said
that I was hard
to get to know,
but who do they know?


When I examine myself
I find that I'm
different people
to different people.


Why must it be that
way?  It's easy to
explain...others are
like that too.


"Oh, not they're not!",
says the world.