Misplaced

A full moon grows into a temptation so meek,
You reach out for a feel,
Then grasp all you need.
You hunger for more,
Of what seems to be sane,
Nothing to scorn upon,
Or speak of in vain.
But what is this temptation,
That drives you so,
It's that bitter taste, of sweet sorrow.
Some handle it like barbarians in a cage,
Other go deep rather than on an emotion filled stage.
No one wants to be judged,
Everyone cares about the other.
What they think is best for you,
And best for each other.
You worry about what they'll say,
Now that the temptation is dry.
Will they answer your worst fears,
Or will their comments die.
What is the worst that could happen,
A little pat on the back?
Or will the sorrow take over,
And put on a deceitful act.
A show on that stage of emotions,
You cover up your face,
All I can tell you my dear,
Is you are misplaced.