I am an introvert… and I am happy.
(Note: I dedicate this poem to introverts who are routinely misunderstood/persecuted)
One fine morning I saw
A chart on social media
Two personality types it described
Extroverts—and Introverts, it decried!
The Extrovert sat in a group
And with a smile bright, gazed at his soup
The Introvert sat, alone at her desk
And with a crushed frown, glared burlesque
To the quick, that picture stung me:
And I will tell you why (I cannot let it be)
I am an introvert, and I am happy
My breed is anything but loopy.
That introverts are bored, lonely, and steeped in melancholy
(I believe) is a myth and a stereotype, loathsome and lowly
We introverts are content being (with) ourselves:
How many people can say that for themselves?
We actively seek solitude,
Which gives an edge to our reflective attitude
Our thoughts make a special world
From where loudmouths get (routinely) hurled
Introverts seldom gossip or yak incessantly
We do not socialise senselessly
Our mouths are quiet; our minds & bodies are busy.
Here’s some advice: give us a break, and take it easy.
And the next time you make your beastly charts
Remember—introverts have extra-happy hearts!