Shyness of one’s Heart

In the shadows of night
In the low light of the moon
In which to little people interact
Where the hills rise and fall down
In the shape of sleeping men

People in this place
Do not speak often
They are to afraid
To hear there voice aloud
They speak more with actions
Then words but even then
They are still terrified
To interact
With others

Things soon change
Just a little
When the sun starts to rise
They interact more
But the more people
There are the less
Socialization occurs

This is changed
The most when
People from other groups
Migrated to
This little town
Where no man stood together
In a group but instead
Far secluded from others
It became like a
Paradise where they talked
More and had fun
This to the original people
became a golden age
For all to remember